


Children of the Hunt

by PoeticAnt44, Vokunkendov



Series: Children of Daedra [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Brainwashing, Children of Hircine, Daedric Princes (Elder Scrolls), Demiprinces (Elder Scrolls), Elder Scrolls Lore, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Gay Male Character, Homosexuality, Idiots in Love, Love, Male Homosexuality, Mind Control, Multi, No Companions Questlines, No Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, Torture, Twins, Vigilants of Stendarr Are the Bad Guys, Werewolves, f/m - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 67,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticAnt44/pseuds/PoeticAnt44, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vokunkendov/pseuds/Vokunkendov
Summary: Unbeknownst to Hircine, he sires two children, twins after seeking a huntress in the woods.  The Bosmer huntress raises the twins into adulthood when their whole world turns upside down.  Because they are children of Hircine, they were also born werewolves.  While they can control their power at will, they had to hunt during the full moons.  During this time, they are captured and taken to two separate locations.  Though they are both saved, now they have to face a new monster.  Not just the Silver Hand, but a new group has risen who have made it their life endeavor to rid all of Nirn of the Daedra, including their children.  The new enemy is the Vigitants of Stendarr and their leader Morric is at the head of the hunt.  Outwardly, he appears handsome, kind, thoughtful.  On the inside grows a hatred for the Daedra and he will stop at nothing to get rid of them, their artifacts, and children.
Relationships: Farkas (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s), Hircine (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s), Vilkas (Elder Scrolls)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Children of Daedra [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776904
Comments: 130
Kudos: 38





	1. Prologue - The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> This is the next installment of Children of Daedra. This time we have twins of Hircine. The story begins AFTER the Companions questlines and Vilkas is the new Harbinger after the death of Kodlak and Skjor. Here, we will be slowly tying in some connections between our stories. The Vigilants of Stendarr will be the main antagonists throughout these stories, but won't be the main focus either. 
> 
> Please note that we tried to balance out this story. There is humor in it, but there are going to be some disturbing elements too. It's not all doom and gloom, but there will be dark moments. Read accordingly.
> 
> Last, thank you, thank you to [solstice_sweetheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solstice_sweetheart/pseuds/solstice_sweetheart) for your beta eyes and laughs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hircine finds his perfect huntress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Content

__

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_Twenty-eight years ago_

She was silent as the night. Calmer than before a storm. The young Bosmer woman sped through the woods on bare feet, careful not to snap twigs. Her long trailing braid was a nest of wispy ashen hair falling out as she rushed, holding her bow in one hand and an arrow in another. The Wood Elf had been hunting the rare and massive white stag for days, following his trail deep into the ancient forest. The creature would be her greatest achievement in hunting, yet it remained elusive. But Anriel didn’t let frustration or impatience get the better of her. Her calm fortitude helped make her an excellent hunter—one of the best.

The stag ran, knowing she was behind him. Despite her stealth, he heard everything with his keen ears. He stopped for a moment, head held high, alert, the petal-soft ears moving to capture any sound. _She’s close_. He took off again, running towards the glade up ahead. 

Anriel didn’t smile or grow cocky when she had the stag cornered in the glade, enveloped by cliffs. She knew there was nowhere else for the creature to go. He was cornered. Her movements slowed, controlling her breathing and heart rate despite running for miles. She scanned the area to make sure there were no other escape routes for the elk and made her way in stealth through the plants and trees. The only sound was rushing water pouring down into a shallow pool of crystalline water. 

_There he is_. 

The Bosmer ducked behind a fallen tree and watched the stag drink water. It looked calm now, if not for the ever-present ear movements, ready to capture any sound or threat. Anriel bided her time, but she didn’t want to take too long before the creature got spooked or ran off.

He watched the elf hunter lift her bow and nock an arrow. She was more silent than the soft breeze that traveled through the wooded glade. Her eyes never wavered. Her arms steady despite the strain from pulling the string back for so long. The hand with curled fingers pressed against the side of her face through tendrils of hair, she held her breath, steady. His heart raced, pleased at her endurance after running for so long. He loved to watch her skill with the bow and her ability to hunt down the stag and corner it. The creature was unaware she was there, its small brain forgetting he was being hunted due to her silence. In moments, life would be over for the stag. He held his breath as she held hers as if they shared the same lungs.

Her breath letting out was quiet as she let the arrow fly, whistling through the air. It was too fast and too late for the creature. The arrow plunged straight through its heart before it reacted, falling. Instant death. She killed it with one arrow. _Pure perfection_ , he thought as he watched her walk over to the stag. Long, bare legs through the leather skirt, were covered in blood, dirt, and scratches. She stooped over and checked its pulse. But there was no way the creature survived with an arrow to the heart.

The elf squatted down next to the dead elk and rested a gentle hand on its head running fingers through its soft fur. “It was an honor,” she whispered, then unsheathed her dagger tucked in her thigh to strip its flesh.

Her words, like a cold breeze, sent shivers through his spine as he grew hard between his legs. She was the perfect huntress and still so young for an elf. He crept out of the trees, shape-shifting to a human Nord, not wanting to scare her by his original form. The invisible hands of desire pulled him towards her as if he had no will of his own. Lust filled him not only from her abilities but her compassion for the creature at her feet. She was precious to him. She was his.

Before he scared her, alerting her to his presence, he spoke up. “That was some mighty fine hunting.”

Arniel didn’t hear the man coming, despite her keen ears. Her eyes narrowed at the intrusion, drawing her dagger, ready for an attack. “I didn’t hear you. How? Who are you?” she demanded. 

She appeared unafraid if not for her hammering heart he could hear. “You are a great hunter, but not as good as me,” he said, smirking. He ambled closer to her, holding out his hands at his sides as if to say he was there in peace. He wasn’t a threat, but the elf’s eyes were wary, not lowering her defenses, but she calmed her heart rate.

“Who are you?” she asked again, eyeing the man, suspicious of his stealth and why he was talking to her. His hair was as snowy white as the dead stag, eyes silvery. His face, handsome with a strong jaw and nose. He was wearing very little leather armor, his muscular chest exposed. As he drew near, she could smell him with her sensitive nose. His odor matched that of the stag—musk, soil, wild animal, and something else she couldn’t pinpoint—something feral that sent a throbbing sensation between her legs. She quickly shut it down. 

“I am Hircine, my lovely hunter,” he said, bowing as if he were some noble gentleman. But this man was no noble—looking and smelling wild as the stag at her feet. He stood close to her, but not so close that she was able to cut him, not that he could get hurt or die. Her eyes pinned to his looked like the mossy side of ancient forest trees. They were intent, suspicious… delicious.

Arniel wanted to scoff, but as she inspected the man, no lies appeared on his face. There was also something about the eyes. Animalistic. They glowed with reflections from the moons. The same eyes seen in predators who hunted at night so they could see in the dark. The Bosmer understood that Hircine was the ultimate predator. She didn’t worship Hircine as many hunters did. Her life was one of simplicity, living alone most of her life. She fared well enough without the help of the Daedric Prince.

“Ah, I see you believe me,” he said to her silence and inspection, smirking at her. The clarity hit those luscious green eyes when she recognized him for who he was.

“What do you want? I don’t worship you.”

“But I worship you,” he said with the quick retort.

That admission stunned her for a moment. “Did you follow me?”

“No, my dear. I have been watching you for some time, as I do all hunters who excel at what they do. I must say, you have piqued my interest more than the others. Though you do not worship me, you have my favor. I have no need for idolaters. It is only about the glory of the hunt.”

“Why me?” she asked, her body in debate whether or not he frightened her, fighting the internal battle to calm herself. 

Hircine stood closer to her, so close he saw the bead of sweat trickle down from her temple. She was not able to hurt him, though she was still on the defense. He lifted her long blond braid dripped over her shoulder, bringing it to his nose. She smelled like she grew from the very forest in which she stood. 

“You are beauty incarnate. A huntress of the night. You are more quiet than a cat hiding before it pounces its prey. Your eyes are of forest leaves. I am intrigued by you—enthralled,” he explained. “That stag was mine. Not one hunter has cornered and killed it yet. Not until you.”

Hircine reached for her face as she stood, absorbing his compliments as if they were gentle kisses. He traced her face and jawline with a finger, feeling her soft skin, her body trembling at his delicate touch. It wasn’t out of fear, but… pleasure? Before she could react, he pulled her close to him, dug his nose in her neck, and inhaled. The elf wasn’t sure what Hircine wanted, but his actions screamed sex. She wasn’t sure what she thought about that, but being near him had her insides warming to him, her stomach in flutters. The bumps traveled along her skin with his warm breath caressing her.

“I want you,” he whispered, confirming her thoughts. “You are not my prey. You are my huntress. I will not take you, but I would very much like you to give yourself wholly to me. I must have you.” He inhaled again and new scents came from her flesh—lust and virginity. The young elf woman had never lain with another. _Even better. Perfection._ She was all his in every way.

Soft lips pressed against her throat as her face flushed in lust. Anriel had been on her own for most of her life, secluded in the woods. She only had animal knowledge of sex, never having been with a man before. She understood enough that the hardness pressed up against her thigh was his arousal. His nuzzles in her skin, hands slinking through her hair, soft kisses on her throat had her mind in a state of desire and confusion. She was weak with desire, feeling her body give into him. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but one she liked, unable to stop herself from giving him all he wanted. Her arms reached around towards his broad back as if they had minds of their own. 

Hircine smiled in her neck as he continued to press kisses on her warm skin, salty on his lips with sweat from her hunt. He sensed her giving in to him as he inhaled her arousal, the scent so strong, he ached for her. When he lifted his head, he looked down on her. Her green eyes staring at him darkened, mouth parted as her breathing grew erratic. Yes, he was going to have her. He was going to break in his beautiful little huntress in the most pleasurable way.

With catlike reflexes, he grabbed her braided hair from behind, yanking her head back as he thrust his lips to hers. Her mouth opened willingly to him, moaning in his mouth as his tongue intruded inside like a soft dagger. She molded her body to his as if instinct guided her. They fit perfectly—made for one another. Her body trembled against his and he shushed in her ear to calm her. 

“I… I’ve never—” she stammered, unable to finish her words as he kissed her again.

“I know,” he growled, his voice deep and vibrated against her when he pulled away, achingly hard between his legs at the thought. His little virgin huntress. “Give yourself over to me and you will have pleasure like no man could ever give you.”

“Wha…”

“Say it,” he ordered with force.

“You have me,” she whispered, delirious with desire. The only thoughts intruding in her mind was having Hircine in every way. Thoughts of the hunt for days long gone from her lust addled brain. A fiery heat spread through her body as she pulsed and grew wet between her legs. There was no time to think more about it as he swept her up into his powerful arms and carried her to a thick thatch of grass where the moons streamed down their luminous light. 

He laid her down with ease and with a wave of his hand, she was completely naked when her armor vanished to who knew where, and her hair undone, spread out in long blond tendrils. Her hands reached to cover her most private parts, but he shook his head, brows furrowed in irritation. “No. I must see you.”

Another wave of his hand and he stood naked before her. His cock long, thick and hard with pulsing veins. It was wet at the tip, gleaming in the light. The sight scared Anriel a little, afraid he would hurt her. She wanted to scoot away as if that would stop him, but the sight froze her. Fear coursed through her, combined with lust. The emotions confused her mind as she tried to shake rationality back into her thoughts. It was useless. The Prince had her enthralled in every way. 

Hircine dropped to his hands and knees, spreading her legs apart. He hungered for her, waiting for this day for a long time, waiting until the day she slew his stag as he knew she would. Today was the day he finally had her. It wasn’t often he wanted a mortal, but she was special in all ways. 

Masser and Secunda were full, shining down on the elf, making her appear ethereal, her ashen blond hair glowing in the night. Hircine pressed his face between her legs, nose touching her wet mound as he inhaled. Like grass, pine trees, sweat from her run, musk from her arousal. It was heady. She smelled feral, and he almost took her right then. But he needed to take his time, wanting to explore every inch of this beautiful creature. He waited too long for this day. 

The Bosmer lay back, staring at the night sky and the moons. Her breathing was frantic, her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. Most of her life was calm and controlled. Everything she trained herself to be, vanished with Hircine’s arrival. But she wanted him too, her body yearning for the simplest of touches. The odor of his arousal penetrated her nose and all she could think about was him taking her. What was he doing? She dared look at him as he sniffed between her legs, trying to shut them, but he held firm. The first lick of the tongue sent an electric current through her body. Her back arched as she clung to the grass, but it didn’t hurt. Quite the contrary. 

_By Auri-El!_ She moaned and relaxed under his licks and sucks. His touch was gentle yet unforgiving as he devoured her. The pleasure was punishing but she wanted more. It wasn’t enough. _Please, more._ He focused on one area, pressure, and heat building there. She was growing lightheaded, thrusting herself shamelessly into his mouth, grasping the white hair between strong fingers. Her cry into the night as she came sent sleeping birds fluttering away in irritation. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she didn’t know why, but they didn’t shed. A strange emotion filled her, combined with relaxing pleasure. Her muscles lost all strength as her body sank back into the grass. No animal ever did that, that she was aware.

Hircine hovered over her, looking down, then leaned in to kiss her lips. When he speared his tongue in her mouth. He grew even harder, his cock pulsing, knowing she could taste herself. As he pulled away, he slipped a hand under her back and lifted her upright, placing her on his lap. He sat on his knees, slipping a hand through her silky hair, and licked her salty skin as if it could feed him. Her orgasm was as sweet as she was. She was dripping wet and ready for him. 

As he kissed and nibbled on her flesh, he eased inside of her without her knowing. It was her first time and he was large, so he cast a small healing spell on her so there was no pain, but he could smell the little blood she spilled, mingled with her sex. He growled into her throat. The smell had him wanting to thrust fast, deep and hard. The fiery heat of her core, tight around him overwhelmed his desire, nearly spilling, but he took his time. Instead, he took a breast in his mouth as he lingered in her, lips teasing her swollen nipples, feeling his pulses deep inside. Her head lolled back. A moan escaping her lips as he ran a tongue from her breast to her throat, nibbling on her chin. 

The elf moved her hands to touch him. She could feel the thick, hot flesh, filling pressure between her legs and deep inside, but it didn’t hurt despite feeling split wide open. More burning heat filled her, similar to when he licked between her legs. Anriel closed her eyes and ran her fingers through his silky white hair, tangling them, tugging as he thrust with deep, long strokes. He pressed her lips to his face, kissing, licking. His growl reverberated against her chest.

She panted as they pressed foreheads together, mouths close enough to kiss as his movements grew in speed and depth. Her heartbeat out of rhythm, the glorious sensation had her losing herself to the lovemaking. She threw her head back again as he hit a spot deep inside, screaming deep inside with pleasure, crying out when he nibbled her nipple.

Oh, she was tight and delicious. Her warmth and wetness surrounded his length, fueling his want. He couldn’t get enough of her. She was completely under a spell of lust as she gave all of herself to him. He had to see. He wanted to see her eyes as she came. She was close. He could feel it as his elf’s steaming, hot core around him, clenching like a vise. 

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Anriel looked at him. His glowing, silver eyes fierce with desire. She could feel it just by looking at him. She grasped his face between hands, kissed him, and watched him. But the orgasm took hold, and she lost the ability to keep her eyes open as a cry tore from her again. The heat radiated through her, her body molding to his as she clenched his flesh inside and out.

As she came down from her orgasm, he laid her back in the damp, cool grass with him still inside. As soon as she was settled, he let go of all control. His thrusts were fast, hard, deep. He let his want consume him as he watched her staring at him, memorizing every detail of her face. The orgasm hit like an explosion as his hot seed spilled into her but controlled, not letting out a shout into the night. Instead, he absorbed it to feel more of her. 

When the last of his seed was spent, he laid down next to his little huntress, pulling her into an embrace. She turned to face him and gave him a small kiss. He closed his eyes at her tenderness, pushing aside his guilt, but he would not lie to her.

“Sleep now as I hold you. Come morning, I will be gone. You will never see me again.”

Anriel’s eyes watered, feeling empty without him inside—with thoughts of him gone. “So you take me and leave?” she asked, but her voice lacked any bitterness.

“It is the way of the hunt,” he said as if it explained everything. “But know this. You will always have my favor and I love you.”

“People who love you don’t leave.”

He blew out a laugh at her naivety. “People who love, leave all the time. Shush now and rest. You have me until morning.”

The Bosmer grew tired after days of hunting with little rest, then the sex. It took only a brief moment before she was fast asleep in Hircine’s warm embrace.

When Arniel woke the next morning, her eyes fluttered open, feeling the cool air against her skin, knowing her Daedric lover was gone. He never lied to her, but she still felt his loss. No man ever touched her like that or told her he loved her. Now she was alone again. Tears threatened to spill, but she refused to give in to them, choking them down. She swallowed the lump deep in her throat as she looked around to find her armor. It was there neatly folded in the grass next to her weapons.

She wanted to go back to the glade from time to time, hoping he was there or would return to her, but she knew better. She would never see him again, feeling childish with these hopeful dreams. It wasn’t until three months later, with missed periods, that she was pregnant. Was this what he wanted? Did he know? He should know. 

Anriel headed back to the glade at five months pregnant, large already. She called out to Hircine. He needed to know. She wanted him to know he had a child on the way. Maybe he would love her, come back to her. But she was only greeted with silence. It made her all the more lonely. 

For the next two months, she traveled to the glade, calling, hoping. But it was no use. Now she was too big, unable to travel anymore. All she could do was waddle and hunt near her home.

By the ninth month, she was due any day. The Bosmer gave up hope of seeing Hircine again. It was a silly notion that a Daedric Prince cared enough that he had a child on the way. Why would he? He didn’t care enough to stay and love her despite his proclamations. 

It was early evening, and she squatted in front of the fire, stoking it when she felt a wet and warm feeling between her legs. Looking down, there was a puddle of water on the wood floor of her cabin. _It’s time._ She was alone and hoped she could deliver her own child, choking down her nerves. With no other choice, she boiled water and gathered rags and blankets she would need in between her painful contractions. Then she lay a pile of hay on the floor to absorb the blood. Anriel stripped naked and squatted on the floor as she pushed. The evening was silent. Not an animal could be heard, but maybe that was the pain ringing in her ears as she screamed out with each push as she contracted, feeling her body being torn open from the inside out. 

She reached between her legs, feeling the infant’s head. _Soon. It’s almost over._ Her fingers grasped the tiny child as she pushed, pulling it out of her, whimpering from the pain. She wept, seeing her boy through blurry tears. But the contractions didn’t stop with his birth. _There’s another._ With little choice, she bundled the little boy up in a blanket as he wailed into the night. Then she pushed again. After several more contractions and pushes, she eased her second child out of her womb. _A girl._ Anriel wept again, seeing her little children healthy, alive, screaming with their anger from leaving their warm home.

_Five years later_

“Hold it steady, Talas. Keep the string close to your face. You should feel your fingers against your skin. Breathe in and hold. Now let it fly,” Anriel said as she instructed her son how to use a bow.

The arrow flew, just missing its mark. Talas threw down his bow, folding his arms, trying to hold back his tears. Anriel squatted next to her son and grabbed his little pouting face. His blond hair blowing and sticking to his tears, his silver eyes were haunting. He and his sister shared the same eyes, like their father. She wiped away the tears and brushed his hair away. 

“No tears now. You were very close. Before you know it, you will be better than your mother,” she said, kissing his forehead. 

“It’s too hard!”

“It is hard. But mastering hard things comes with great rewards. You are only five summers, Talas. Give it time. Just keep practicing while I help your sister.”

Anriel smiled as her son picked up his bow again and kept practicing as she headed over to help Telona. Her daughter hated the bow, preferring daggers, but she needed to learn both if she wanted to hunt to survive. Animals don’t stop long enough for a dagger. They needed to be killed from a distance.

Her daughter also had her mother’s ashen blond hair but shared the silver eyes of her son. They looked just alike.

“This is boring!” Telona pouted. Anriel chuckled at her two pouting children. They complained, but they always did as they were told. They were wonderful children.

“Yes, you have told me countless times. I won’t lecture you. You know why you must learn. Now get in your stance, young lady.”

“Fine, mama,” she sighed.

Telona missed her target as well. Her brother was better with the bow, probably because he was more interested in it, but Anriel was confident both children would be excellent archers.

After dinner and washing up, her children crawled into the bed they shared, snuggled into one another. Because they were born together, growing in the same womb, they were inseparable. Their mother stood, sipping on some wine, watching them sleep, beautiful in their slumber. Though they had no father and Anriel was alone to care for them, she loved them more than life itself. One day she would tell them the story of how they came to be.

_Eleven Years Later_

Anriel woke with a start. Something startled her, but she wasn’t sure what it was, but something wasn’t right. The little cabin was bright with the light of Masser and Secunda full in the night. She crawled out of bed and stalked around the house, unable to pinpoint what was bothering her. Her instinct was to go check on her children. She walked to their room and when she opened the door, and took a shuddered breath, heart hammering as the fear took hold. They were gone.

At sixteen summers, it wasn’t unusual for them to be out late at night, but they never snuck out of the house once they were settled down. But it was more than that. There was something in the back of her mind, prickling fear into her that something was wrong.

She ran, grabbing her bow and quiver, and fled the house in search of Talas and Telona. When she stood outside on the warm night, she looked down to see footprints in the soil. Her kids left a trail, though she taught them better than that. Cursing, worried, she followed the trail deep into the woods. There were broken branches and crushed plants. This was one time she was grateful for their carelessness in keeping a clean trail.

A mile in, their footprints changed to something else. Something Anriel didn’t recognize. She knew enough they weren’t human. The prints were massive with long claws. Panic seized her, terrified the beasts killed her children. The only thing that kept her calm was the lack of blood at the scene.

“Talas! Telona!” she cried out into the night. Only silence greeted her.

The forest grew thick with ancient trees. Dense foliage blocked the light from the moons, but her keen eyesight could still see the trail. She kept walking, listening, waiting for any signs from her twins. Then Anriel came to an abrupt stop. The trail ended. In silence, she drew her bow, nocking an arrow, ready for anything as she stalked through the woods, keen ears alert. It was quiet. Too quiet. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was wrong. _Please let them be fine._

The low, rumbling growl came out from behind her. She whipped around with her bow ready, but she couldn’t see anything. “Who’s there! Show yourself,” she yelled out, heart hammering, unable to control it, filled with fear for her children. She knew whatever was hiding was aware she was there. “Talas! Telona!”

Another growl to her right. Her heart thudded at the sound. Whatever it was, was stalking her. She was always the hunter, the predator. Now she was the prey. Anriel took a deep and slow breath to calm her nerves and focus. Panicking would lead to her death and her children without a mother.

As she focused to her right, the creature came out of nowhere to her left, crashing into her. Her bow went flying from her hands as the wind got knocked out of her. As her vision cleared, the creature was hovering right over her, its face so close she could feel it’s hot and rancid breath, white furry muzzle covered in blood. 

“Please, no,” she whimpered.

Anriel had rushed out of the house with just her bow, leaving her dagger behind. Now she was defenseless. 

Her head whipped around, seeing the other creature approach. Also stark white in fur. Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The beast hovering over her made no move to tear away her flesh. It just stared, then sniffed her. The elf knew then what they were. Werewolves. They were covered in blood and she prayed that they hadn’t killed her children, but the blood... 

The second beast stood close, hunched down, and also sniffed her. Anriel laid as still as possible, making no sudden movements. Fear coursed through her and she was certain the animals could smell it. Then the one on top of her licked her face and whimpered. She cringed at the wet assault on her skin, not understanding, inspecting the beast. That nagging, swirling fog in the back of her mind grew clear as the answer dawned on her. The beasts and her children were one and the same. It was the silvery eyes that gave them away. The same eyes as their father. 

The Bosmer reached up to the beast over her with a shaking hand and touched the fur on its face. “Talas?” Then she looked over at the other and reached out to it too. “Telona?”

Another lick to her face had her turning to the beast over her, then it stepped away. Anriel sat up slowly, ill at ease, but trusted the creatures wouldn’t hurt her, knowing them to be her children. She wondered how much they were aware of what they were or who they were.

The screams that shattered the silent night had the elf covering her ears. She looked at the beasts, eyes wide. They were writhing in pain on the ground, howling. Tears spilled down her face, hearing the wails of pain from her children. Anriel experienced nothing like it.

When her children settled down, they were naked in their human form, bodies in fetal position as they trembled. They were still, unmoving. The only thing that indicated that they were alive was their heavy breathing and shaking bodies. Anriel scrambled to them. “Telona. Talas. My children. Are you okay? Please tell me you are fine.”

“Mama?” her daughter cried out. 

“Oh, my dear girl.”

“We are fine, mama,” Talas said, his voice hoarse from his change and pain. 

“What happened?” Telona asked.

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” they both said.

Anriel sighed. She knew this was Hircine’s doing. She appreciated his gift of life, but she didn’t realize they would be beasts too, wanting to curse the Daedric Prince. That meant when her children died, they would be thrust into the realm of Hircine and be part of the hunt for eternity. She didn’t let the threatening tears spill, needing to be strong for her twins.

“I think it is time we had a talk about who your father is.”


	2. Wolves in Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see Telona and Talas grow up into adulthood. But soon trouble brews and Anriel finds someone has taken her twins after a night of hunting. Realizing she cannot save both, she seeks the help of Hircine.

_Present-day._

It was the first snow of the season, dusting down in gentle spirals, thick enough to settle on the ground without melting, but not so heavy that the twins had to stay indoors. It was childish with Talas and his sister being twenty-seven winters, but they always played this game during the first snowfall.

Telona fled into the woods as Talas built his arsenal of snowballs. It was a game their mother taught them to enhance their hunting techniques of stealth, but it was also for fun. He tossed his balls into a sack and carried one in each hand as he searched for his sister. Each year they would take turns being predator and prey. This year it was his sister’s turn to be the prey, and he had to find her. Not only did he have to stalk her, but she had to hide all traces of her trail. 

His footfalls were nearly silent on the whispering of snow crunching underfoot as plumes of air escaped his mouth, controlling his breathing and heart rate. On the ground, Telona’s footprints imprinted in the snow, but they were irregular, sporadic, concealing her direction. No matter. Talas would figure it out. He crouched down to inspect the prints. To an untrained eye, they would look haphazard, but to him, he saw patterns. A print in the snow, not as deep, sat on top of others. It faced northwest, and that was the direction he would go. 

The footprints became clearer in their destination, spread apart, indicating she ran, trying to get as far from him as possible before he started his hunt. Talas picked up his pace but kept himself silent as he made his way deeper into the woods. The heavy pine trees prevented little snow from reaching the ground, so he no longer had footprints to follow. Now he had to rely on other signs, knowing it was going to be difficult. Telona excelled at covering her tracks. His pace slowed down as he scanned his surroundings, his pointed ears moving to pick up any sounds she might make. There was nothing but a few birds and the wind blowing through the trees—his favorite sound.

The snow that hit his head, sprinkled down his neck through his fur-lined cloak. Talas shook his head, chuckling as cold shivers spread through his body, then glanced up to find Telona perching on a tree branch. 

“Talas, what will mother think of you missing that snapped branch that marked I climbed this tree,” she said, smirking.

“You cheated, Tel,” he said, and before she hopped down, he hurled a snowball at her, hitting her right in the face. 

Eyes wide, her arms windmilled, teetering on the branch. She was going to fall. Talas dropped the snow and scrambled under her as she plummeted below. He caught her just in time as they both landed with a thud to the ground. 

“Oof,” he said, gasping for air with his sister landing on top of him. “Off, woman!”

“Well, it’s your own damn fault. You knocked me out of the tree!” she huffed.

“You were supposed to be prey. It was my turn to be the predator.”

Telona straddled her brother, snickering. “Aw, poor baby. Did whittle Archer wanna be pwedator?”

“Yeah!” he sulked.

She slipped her hands under his cloak and tickled his ribs. 

“Stop! Stop! Ah, haha! Stop… Tel! Please!” he snorted, howling with laughter.

Talas panted and gasped for air when his sister finally pulled off of him. “You are one cruel sister.”

“Maybe, but you love me, anyhow.”

“That’s the sole reason I haven’t killed you yet,” he quipped.

“As if you’re capable of even catching me.”

Talas conceded she was better at the hunting game than him, but he was the better archer. He was also stronger as he seized her, tossing her over his shoulder, striding back home. 

“Talas! Put me down!”

“Hmm, I don’t think so, cheater.”

“Please… you can be the predator. I promise. Just put me down!” she demanded, laughing as she struggled to kick away, but it was no use.

Talas burst the door open to their cabin, carrying a demanding twin. “Mother! I’m home and I've brought dinner! Though, she’s mostly bone and gristle.”

“Talas! Honestly! Put me down now!” she giggled.

Anriel came out of the cramped kitchen, laughing at her children. “I see Talas won today.”

“As if. I’m the winner, as always,” Telona said, finally upright.

“Well, true, but she cheated, so…”

“Alright, enough. Go wash up, you two. Dinner is almost ready,” their mother said.

At supper, Talas shuffled around his meal, not eating, lost in reflection. He debated on telling his mother and sister his plans. He lived at home all his life and at twenty-seven, Talas finally wished to get out and explore the world. To do something beyond hunting. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother and hated the idea of being separated from Telona, but it was time. 

“Talas. What troubles you, son? You’ve barely eaten a bite,” his mother said.

With his head down, he glanced over thick blond lashes at his mother and sister, guilt weighing him down. “I’ve been thinking…”

Telona, impatient, punched him in the arm. “Out with it, brother!” She was angry with apprehension about what was to happen and didn’t truly want to hear it, but if he told them, she could talk him out of it.

“Ow! What was that for?” he complained, rubbing his arm.

“Spit it!”

“Fine, geez.” Again, he glanced at his mother sheepishly, uncertain how she was going to take the news. He realized his sister was going to be furious, yet sure she had a good idea about what he planned to say. They constantly read each other like books. “I want to leave home, to explore beyond Falkreath and be more than a hunter. I don’t think I want to hunt for fur and food for the rest of my life. There’s so much out there that I haven’t seen!”

“I fucking knew it!” his sister spat.

“Telona!” Anriel reprimanded, then sighed, studying her son. She accepted the day would come when her children would want to leave—leave her all alone. She wasn’t able to hold them forever, but it hurt. The tears threatened, but she held them back, not wanting Talas to assume she was guilting him into staying. “If you must, son. I cannot order you to stay forever. Just… just promise you will come visit your mother once in a while?”

Talas looked up, expecting more of an argument from her, blowing out a sigh as the weight of his words was released. “I will! Of course, mother. How could I stay away from my two favorite ladies for long?”

Telona didn’t even try to hold back the tears. “I thought we would be together forever,” she said, lip trembling, gutted that he wished to part from her. “We’re twins, Tal.”

The shame that swelled through him was doubly worse with his sister. He loathed to see her upset, but he didn’t want to live there forever. He needed space. To have a place of his own and perhaps find someone to love and to share it with. He grasped for his sister. She was resistant, angry, but he dragged her to him and held her as she wept. “I’m your annoying big brother. You’re going to be delighted without having me around to torment you.”

Telona laughed through her tears. “You’re older only by a few minutes, and I will miss your torments.”

Anriel wasn’t able to contain her tears to see how hurt her daughter was. She understood Talas wanted to go and explore. But it would be tougher for Telona to let go of her brother she was so close to. “When are you thinking about leaving?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe next week?”

A few nights later, Anriel sat by the fire, sipping tea, struggling not to fret about her children. It was that time when Masser and Secunda were full. She trusted them, and understood she had to let go, especially with Talas leaving soon. But it was that time when her children turned and hunted without weapons other than claws and teeth. She tried not to worry as her children were strong, but they were creatures people feared. Anything could happen to them. They explained to her they were able to change whenever they wanted or not, but when the two moons were full, the urge to hunt took over beyond their control.

Talas and Telona wouldn’t return until the morning, so Anriel would wait without sleep until then. The tea would help keep her awake. She was fully dressed in armor, her bow and dagger ready, just in case. The first time she chased after them, she ran out, ill prepared. _Never again._

When dawn arrived, fear gripped her like a vise to her heart. All her instincts screamed something happened to her twins. She was going to wait no longer. Strapping on her fur cloak for warmth, she then put on her quiver full of arrows, grabbed her bow, sheathed her dagger and ran out into the wintry morning. 

They always told her where they were headed to change and hunt. From there, she would track them. The area they told her they would be was by a small waterfall spilling into a creek. The woods there teemed with game. Talas and Telona made a promise to hunt animals only, so they made sure they found a place far enough away from civilization. 

When Anriel reached the area, she saw it there. She struggled not to overreact, but her heart wouldn’t let her as it tried to burst out of her chest. A sense of apprehension hit her as she came near it. Blood. It was everywhere along with several bodies. Her body shuddered as adrenaline took hold, praying to all her gods that those bodies weren’t her children. As the Bosmer got closer, she let loose air from her lungs, not realizing she held her breath. The dead were not her children, but who were they? Upon closer inspection, she saw slash marks from claws, one of the men eviscerated with tendrils of intestines spilling out. Another had his throat ripped out. That was her children’s doing. Anriel shuddered at their beastly power.

There was blood everywhere, as if it erupted from something, and it left a trail for her to pursue, hoping it wasn’t her twin’s blood. Once she let go of the panic, determination took hold. Her only thoughts were saving them. The evidence showed many people involved—obviously a battle. If her children weren’t lying there dead, then they either escaped or were captured. Judging by the amount of footprints, there were perhaps too many for them to fight off, otherwise there would be more bodies. With no other choice, she followed the grisly trail.

Several miles later, there was another body. An injured female, Nord, looked to have bled out were it not for the arrow in her head. Anriel remembered from legends that werewolves transferred their lycanthropy through bites and claw marks, should the person live. She might have changed and they killed her after her children defended themselves. There were still no bodies of her twins, so Anriel remained hopeful, not giving into despair. That would admit defeat.

Andriel traveled into the next day, following the messy trail that was easy for her to follow. But she grew tired as she made her way through Whiterun Hold. The land opened up into rocky moors, lacking in trees, and she was able to see far out into the landscape. Yet she still couldn’t find her children. Either the group moved fast or they had a big head start on her. 

As evening drew near, icy hands of the wind gripped her as it picked up, gusting on the land, making her shiver. She pulled up her hood and tightened her cloak, pressing on. There would be no stopping to relax or eat until she found Talas and Telona. 

The next day, she came to the make-shift fort, ducking behind a tree, bow ready. The ancient structure was crumbling, but enveloped with spiked wood beams like deathly fingers daring anyone to climb them. There was only one way in and one way out. As she surveyed the area, she noticed two sentries standing outside the gate. They looked like bandits to her and didn’t understand why they wanted her children. They carried no wealth. 

It was dark, but her sharp eyes drew focus on the spikes surrounding the gate. Severed heads. Not any heads. Werewolf heads on spikes of wood, dried blood coating the area. A painful lump formed in the pit of her stomach and she knew her children’s lives were at stake. These people hunted werewolves. 

Anriel had to get in there and rescue them, but there were too many walking ramparts, hanging around behind the walls. She had no idea how many were inside. While she excelled at the bow, she wouldn’t be able to kill them all before they killed her. Tears threatened to spill, but she forced them back. Tears were for grieving and her children weren’t yet dead. She felt deep down they were still alive. 

Anriel needed help, but who? She didn’t know anyone, living so isolated. The only people she came across were vendors who bought her furs, bones and teeth she traded for supplies. Vendors wouldn’t know which way an arrow went. Then it hit her. She had to find him. He was the only one who could save her twins. The question was, would he come? He ignored her for almost thirty years. She was doubtful, but had little choice. If he refused to help, she would rush back and do everything in her power to get her children out of the plane of Oblivion they were thrust in.

By the time she reached the cave in Falkreath, Anriel was drained, traveling for days. Her leg muscles burned and her arms grew heavy. Dawn was over the horizon as light sprinkled through the leaves of the dense and ancient forest. She stopped for a moment to eat something, needing to build up her endurance. The cave wasn’t too far now. 

She hauled out her bow and nocked an arrow, ready for anything. The altar was in the primary entrance to the cave she remembered from past hunting trips. It used to be a place where hagravens worshiped Hircine, but they were long gone. Now, anything might have taken up refuge inside. Her eyes were blurry and burned from the lack of sleep, blinking rapidly to bring back moisture to clear her vision. All was clear. She put the arrow back in its quiver and clipped her bow to her back and walked up to the strange shrine created by the witches.

The elk head was decomposed, spiked through with bone and leather. Anriel sat down before it, legs crossed, and steadied her breathing, meditating to settle her fears and nerves. She needed to focus and draw his attention, struggling to stay awake. There should have been a challenging hunt, then worship, but time was precious, having little of it. 

The meditation made her drowsy, but she forced herself to stay awake. “Hircine, my Huntsman Lord. It is Anriel, your lover. Here me. I understand you said I would never see you again, but I need you now.”

It had been years since he’d heard her melodic voice. Years ago she called out to him back at the glade where he took her for his own. He shut her out each time, not wanting the temptation. She was delectable, his little virgin huntress. He made a promise to never see her again. Though loving her, he couldn’t get mixed up with mortals beyond what they shared. Everything was about the hunt. He captured his beautiful prey, and that was that. 

This time Hircine heard something peculiar in her cries. Before her voice had a hint of love and need. That desire they shared, she wanted back—something he couldn’t give her. But not this time. Andriel’s voice was full of exhaustion, pain, anguish, and desperation. 

“Please, Hircine. Your children need you!” she cried out, her voice echoing through his realm.

_Children?_ He had no children. He scoffed at the other Princes who had them. Didn’t he make fun of Sanguine for having a child and tricked by Dibella? _Weakness_. Hircine wasn’t weak or a fool. His little huntress was lying. She had to be. Anger seared him as he went to her, blinded by her lies, ignoring his promise to never reveal himself to her again. _Children! Bah!_

Hircine appeared before the Bosmer in his authentic form, one she had never seen. He oozed anger and intensity as he approached her, hands fisted at his sides.

“Lies! Hircine has no children!” he yelled.

Anriel scrambled away from him in fear as he charged at her, no longer the creature she recognized. His head was that of a white stag, similar to the one she killed all those years ago, and his strong and large body emitted rage. His anger scared her, knowing he could kill her with just a thought.

“It’s no lie, my lord.” Though he startled her, she kept her voice firm.

“I only took you once!”

“Twins, my lord… twins. A boy and a girl.”

_Twins?_ He searched into her forest-green eyes and saw no lies in them. 

“Talas and Telona, I call them. They are beautiful and perfect hunters. I… I tried to tell you, to call you when I was pregnant, but you never heard me.”

He didn’t tell her as soon as he heard her, he shut her out, never hearing words about a pregnancy. Doubt coursed through him with a desperate want for all this to be lies. Not one child, but two. His curse echoes through the cave, scaring Andriel more. But then she surprised him. That bravery he once saw stood and approached him. Her green eyes flared as dark as a storm, her mouth snarled, teeth bared. 

“Yes! You have children! I took care of them on my own without your help! I never sought for one damn thing in twenty-eight years!” she yelled, jabbing his chest with a finger. “They are in trouble and helping them is beyond my capabilities alone! Do one good thing in your sorry life and help them, Hircine!”

She took her fists and thudded on his chest, taking out her fear, anger, frustration, desperation on him. Her hair was a disaster, body covered in scratches, bleeding. She traveled far to find him for help, looking as if she was about to collapse. Hircine took her assault, feeling the first pangs of guilt. _Dammit!_ He snagged her wrists with a speed that no mortal could achieve to stop her beating. He placed a hand on her head and closed his eyes as she calmed down. 

Anriel’s memories became his as he delved deep into her mind. Her large, pregnant belly in the glade calling to him. The birth of the twins, pain, blood. Ashen blond boy and girl, so small, eyes like silver—his eyes. He watched them learn to use weapons, hunt, play. They were very close and loved their mother. The huntress told them who their father was after they became beasts. As Hircine watched them, he knew for certain she told the truth and he grew proud of how they turned out despite him not being part of their lives. 

He glanced down on the Bosmer, her eyes glistening with tears from worry and desperation, unafraid with his appearance. “Please,” she murmured, reaching up to his fur-covered face, grasping it. 

Hircine morphed into the human she remembered from those years ago to provide her something familiar and drew her close to him as she wept. He inwardly cursed. It wasn’t like him to get attached or sentimental towards a mortal, or feel this… guilt surging through him. But he was also annoyed that he made such a blunder as getting her pregnant. It hadn’t even occurred to him, blinded by his want for her that day. Then the groan escaped him, not meaning to, with thoughts about Sanguine. _He’s going to shove this back in my face when he finds out_.

“Please, my lord. Help your children,” she pleaded, dragging him out of his thoughts as she clung to him like a lifeline.

He saw what happened, judging by her memories of her hunt for them. The Silver Hand. Those foul mortals hunted down his children of the hunt. While he respected exceptional hunters, they killed, tortured, and tormented his beasts. But he honored the hunt and left them alone. But now, they had his blood children. He couldn’t interfere with the hunt. Not directly. It would affect his realm negatively, cause it to crumble and destroy itself within. Someone else would have to do it for him.

“I cannot—” he began.

Anriel was angry once more, trying to shove herself away from the iron hold of his arms. “Let me go! I hate you! I… I have to go to them! Oh, gods! I’ve wasted so much time!” she wailed, feeling helpless.

“Silence! Stop your screeching, elf!” he demanded. “If you let me finish… I cannot help directly and I won’t explain to you why. But I know someone who can.”

“Truly?” she asked. Her anger dissipated into a wave of gratitude. “Thank you, my lord! Thank you! I must be off now. I have to be there to help.”

“No. You will eat and rest now. Wait for my return.”

His eyes fluttered open. It was the pain that brought his vision into clarity. His entire body hurt and he was weak, feeling dizzy. Talas wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or something else. It felt like something was in his system, making him groggy. Some sort of poison. He was lying curled up on the ground. As he sat up, stabbing knives assaulted his brain, the pain nearly blinding him. Yes, it must have been some sort of poison. When he sat up on hands and knees, his stomach roiled and he vomited out the remaining contents from the last time he ate. The acrid taste made him vomit more, but not much else came out. His stomach heaved for something, anything as the waves of nausea settled down. 

His hand glowed yellow as he cast a general healing spell on his body. He was weak and had little energy, but it was enough to settle his stomach and his head didn’t feel like someone was smashing it with an iron skillet any longer. Talas realized he was in a cell. The room was small, tucked away from metal bars. 

It was cold as he shivered and realized he was only wearing some rags. Whoever took him, put them on because whenever he and his sister changed back from their beast form, they were naked. When they hunted, they always left their armor and weapons hidden for when they turned back, not wanting to destroy their gear. _Telona_. Shit, where was she? Panic filled him as he looked around at the other cells in the area. He could hear growls, moans, dripping water, but couldn’t see her. She could be close or somewhere else. If she was dead, he would know it. Her being alive would keep him going until he found her. He had to get out there, find her, and make their escape back to their mother, who was probably terrified for them. If he knew her, she would be out there looking for them, following their trail.

Talas struggled to recall what happened and when. How long was he out for? The last thing he remembered was changing into his beast form. The pain was hard to forget and one of the worst parts about having lycanthropy. It was his father’s doing. Hircine. The Prince’s name left a foul taste in his mouth. Talas resented him for abandoning his mother after he got her pregnant, so he never sought him out. Now he wished he could summon him for help. _Forget it. I can do this myself. Mother taught us well._

He closed his eyes and tried to remember. Flashes of scenes like broken threads he struggled to put back together—blood, claws, killing humans, a stinging pain, darkness. _Dammit!_ That was all he could remember. He didn’t know who took him and Telona, or what they wanted.

His legs were wobbly as he stood up, needing to inspect his surroundings. He grasped the bars and pressed his face against them, looking around. There, at the end of the dungeon, was a man sitting at a table, his back facing him. 

If anything, Talas was bold. “Hey, bud! Over here,” Talas called out. When the man turned around, his face was a scowling smirk. “Nice smirk. The ladies must love that!”

“You’ve got a smart mouth, beast. I should cut it right off of you.”

“Tsk. Does your mama know you talk like that? She must be so proud,” Talas said, egging the man on. If he could get him riled up enough to open the cell to beat the shit out of him, maybe he could escape.

“Don’t you talk about my mama!” he spat.

Talas choked back a laugh at the irony of being a kidnapper but worried about his mother’s image. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said blandly. “I meant it, really. You being a killer and kidnapper. She must have trained you well. Really, she must be proud.”

“Shut your mouth, elf!”

“I thought I was a beast?” _Keep pushing._ “So, you’re saying she’s _not_ proud of you, then? Shame. You seem like such a fantastic son.”

“I said shut your mouth or I will cut out your tongue!” he snarled through the bars.

Talas did a quick scan of the asshole, determining what his weapons were and where. Once he got inside the cell, he had to move fast. _Throw the man off-guard, take a weapon, kill him, then find Telona._

“Hmm, well, I do favor my tongue. I would hate to lose it. I mean, it does such wonderful things besides talking and eating, if you catch my drift,” he said, winking at the irate creep.

“You’re disgusting. This is your last warning.”

“Or what? You’re going to come in here and kill a helpless elf?”

“You’re anything but helpless, beast. No. I am not allowed to kill you, but I can certainly maim you.” 

_Interesting. So they want him alive. Why?_

_Now for another mama blow_. “Did daddy talk like that after he left your mama big with your vile self growing in her womb? I bet she spread her legs for any man and you have no idea who daddy is. Isn’t that right?”

If eyes could turn to fire, the man’s did. Talas wasn’t sure it was even possible. Perhaps he went a bit too far as the man dug around for his keys. He braced himself for a fight, trusting his years of training will get him out of it. But the man stopped and smirked.

“I see what you’re fucking doing. You can’t fool me, beasty.”

“I guess you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Keep it up. As soon as they let you out of here, I’m going to have a lot of fun giving you a world of hurt.”

_Fuck! So much for my great escape._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated and welcome.
> 
> Next: Learn your enemy.


	3. Becoming Something Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hircine reaches out to the Companions for help in finding his son. Telona couldn't be found. She is trapped with a monster with kind eyes and a sweet kiss, and full of pain.

She huddled in the corner of her cage that sat in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around her knees, shivering in the cold. The flimsy rags they gave her did nothing to warm her. She supposed she should be grateful she wasn’t naked, but there was nothing good about her situation. Telona also fretted about her brother. There were no other cages around her and the room was small, so Talas wasn’t nearby. _Mother must be so worried._

Memories of what took place were fuzzy, but it didn’t matter. People captured her and her brother while they hunted, and brought them to some unknown location for unknown reasons. They were in jeopardy.

The banging of the door slamming against the stone wall startled her out of her thoughts as someone entered the room. She eyed the man warily, refusing to show him fear. Then Telona saw a ring of keys hanging from his belt. She had to find a way to get them and make her escape and find Talas. 

“Eat,” the man ordered when he placed a wooden bowl full of some slop she wouldn’t feed pigs on the ground. He looked like a run-of-the-mill bandit, but she realized he was more than that. He had to be to capture two werewolves.

Telona didn’t move. The food could be poison for all she knew. They poisoned her before. If they drugged her, they would be able to do anything to her prone form. No, she would not eat. 

The man looked down at her and shrugged when she didn’t rush to eat. “Suit yourself. But it’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re thinking. He wants you alive for some reason. If I had a say in the matter, your head would be on a spike, decorating our fortress.”

The cold pit of fear swallowed her stomach whole at his words, wondering who wanted to keep her alive and why. Who were these people and this man who preferred her dead? They were probably a group of assholes who hunted her kind. Now she was shivering from more than just the cold. _Talas, where are you?_

“You better eat. You’re going to need it,” he said, chuckling as he sat down at a table and began writing something she wasn’t able to see.

“Where’s my brother,” she croaked out, voice hoarse and in need of water.

“Brother? Ah, so the other beast was your brother? You pieces of shit breed like rabbits, tainting our lands with your filth. I’m not sure where they took him. I’m not that high up enough on the food chain to be informed of such things, not that I would tell you anyway. I just hope they skinned him alive.”

“Can I get some water?” she asked, shivering at his words, wondering why she bothered. He probably didn’t care about her thirst.

His dark eyes narrowed at her and stared as if in debate. “Fine.”

He left and returned shortly after with a mug full of water. Telona picked the mug up from the ground, sniffed it, and took a large gulp. Her throat was so dry, she didn’t care at that point if they drugged her. She didn’t know the last time she had anything to drink. She still didn’t touch her food.

“Who are you people?” she asked, growing braver. “Why am I here?”

“We are the Silver Hand. We hunt your filth down. Not just werewolves, but all werebeasts. Your kind is a menace that kills innocent people.”

“My brother and I kill no one. We only hunt animals,” she explained, knowing the man wouldn’t care. She had to try anyway. “We live in peace in the woods, far away from civilization. It is not our fault we are what we are. We were born that way and try our best not to harm another. Please, believe me.”

“I don’t give a fuck, beast. Your kind is not natural.”

“Ah, she’s awake,” said another voice of a man walking into the room.

“Yep, and she refuses to eat.”

“Does she now?” The unusually tall Breton walked over to her cage and squatted down in front of her. He had kind green eyes and a pleasant smile. It would have comforted Telona had she not known his true intentions to harm her. His good looks disarmed her with his dark, wavy, shoulder-length hair, strong nose, and chiseled jaw. 

“Hello there, lovely. My name is Morric Retene. I am with the Vigilants of Stendarr. You are the daughter, yes? The daughter of Hircine. Fascinating.”

Not only was Telona surprised by the man’s honesty in who he was, but the fact that he knew exactly who she was. How could he know? She and her family told no one. The knowledge didn’t comfort her. In fact, her fear grew to painful proportions despite his charm and attractiveness. She cowered away further back in her cage as if she was able to escape his kind voice. She didn’t trust him. 

Morric blew out a small laugh and stood, walking around the cage, squatting down near her again. Telona didn’t dare move as he lifted her blond hair, touching its softness. “Beautiful. Like spun silk. A daughter of Hircine, along with your twin brother. We’ve been watching you both for some time.”

“What do you want from us?” she asked. “You better not have hurt him or my mother!”

“No, my dear. Your mother is innocent, other than being seduced by that creature. Hircine’s biggest mistake was allowing his seed to spread to our world. I would give anything to rid all of Nirn of those vile Daedric Princes. They contaminate our lands with their evil ways. It’s bad enough we had to suffer their artifacts that wreak havoc, but now they are… reproducing and it has to stop.” His kind voice grew harsh as he kept talking. The disgust was hovering just there, itching to get out, but he maintained his calm. That scared her even more. He wasn’t a man who acted on impulse or could be bargained with.

“What do you want from me?” she asked again.

With cat-like reflexes, Morric grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head back to look up at him. Her heart thundered in her chest at the sudden violence after his strange kindness. She understood she was dealing with someone evil. He claimed this morality against her kind, but he was anything but moral. She understood that much. Telona struggled against the tears that threatened but refused to give him the satisfaction of her fear.

“You, my dear, are going to get us inside,” he explained, his voice calm despite his aggression. “I have grand plans for you.”

Just as quickly, he let go of her hair and petted her head as if in apology for what he’d done. “Rest now, my beautiful. You’re going to need it. Oh, I highly recommend you eat. You and I are going to be great friends. That’s a promise.”

Morric stood up and looked at the Silver Hand asshole watching over her. “Force feed her if you have to. If I find one mark on her, I will kill you. Is that understood?”

“Whatever,” the man said, seemingly unafraid were it not for his eyes.

When Morric walked away, the tears slipped out of Telona’s eyes as her body shook. The Breton terrified her. His kindness with bitter words sent a chill up her spine. Then she wept for her brother, wishing he was by her side. Together they might find a way to escape.

It was getting late, the candle burning low as Vilkas read over the parchments in front of him. Several jobs hit the Companions at once and he had to go over them and prioritize who got what jobs. It was good they were getting work, but he wasn’t cut out to be Harbinger. Shit, it was just over a year ago, he was flirting with some cute redhead with his brother only to find out she belonged to Sanguine and she was off-limits. Now he was in charge. He loathed the job they thrust at him, fighting it despite everyone’s best efforts. Eventually, he relented and accepted the job. 

Skjor should have been Harbinger instead. He was next in line with the passing of Kodlak. The memory of his old mentor had Vilkas’ heart aching. Kodlak was such a good man, and there was no way he could fill the old man’s shoes. Vilkas didn’t have the patience or the wisdom. Skjor was killed shortly before Kodlak as he hunted down the Silver Hand. The fool went in alone, without backup, and it got him killed. Skjor knew better. Now Vilkas was stuck with the job filled with bitterness and loss. 

Tomorrow he needed to figure out who was up to become the next member of the Circle. There should always be five members, but there were currently three: Vilkas, his twin brother Farkas and Aela. It was a hard decision. Athis, the Dunmer, was at the top of the list but lacked leadership skills. It was unusual to have a non-Nord part of the Circle, but not unheard of. Then there was Torvar, but he had issues and a drinking problem. Njada was a hothead and too aggressive. Sweet Ria was the newest member. She was smart but needed more experience.

The decision was going to have to wait. They needed more recruits, but their numbers dwindled over the years. That would be his next step. Find more recruits. He would talk to Aela and Farkas in the morning about promoting Athis, though he didn’t believe the man was ready. That left one more to fulfill the Circle’s numbers.

Vilkas’ eyes were bleary and tired. He spent more time reading and signing papers than getting out there as a warrior, missing the adventure. He pushed aside the parchments for tomorrow as he laid down his quill. It was time to get ready for bed. 

After removing his armor and throwing on his nightshirt, he crawled into bed, stretching and yawning. He counted from one hundred backward until he fell asleep. It was the only thing that helped his insomnia, despite how tired he was. By the time he reached forty-four, he was dozing off.

Vilkas didn’t know how long he was sleeping before something startled him awake. His instincts screamed danger as he reached for his dagger under his pillow. It was dark, but his sharp, beast eyes saw clearly, brushing his dark brown, wavy hair out of his eyes. 

“Your little knife will do nothing to protect you, pup,” said the voice. 

Sitting in the far corner of his room, in a chair, was a man with nearly white hair and eyes that shone like his own—silver. Vilkas didn’t know who this man was, but he realized that he was related to him in some way.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Good. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? You may call me Hircine.”

“The Daedric Prince?” Vilkas scoffed, struggling to believe a Daedric Prince would come to visit him in the middle of the night. Despite not worshiping Hircine, he and the Circle were tied to the creature anyway, thanks to an ancient curse that never got resolved with the death of Kodlak.

“Yes, yes. I am here because I need your help.”

“What could I possibly do to help someone of your… power?”

“I need you to save my children—at least my son. I’m not sure where they took my daughter, but perhaps my son knows.”

Vilkas narrowed his eyes at Hircine, seemingly more human than he ever pictured. “Why can’t you just whisk them away. Surely your power holds no bounds,” he said, ignoring the fact that a Prince had mortal children at all.

“I wish that were true. Even the Aedra have limitations. If I involve myself in the hunt, disrupting it in any way might have potential consequences in my realm. If it destroys my realm, I am destroyed along with it. I enjoy being… me.”

“But I can?”

“Yes. I cannot intervene directly as much as I would like to.”

“Fine. What happened exactly?” Vilkas asked, sitting and lifted a pitcher up to pour himself a mug of water resting on his night table. 

Hircine gave a slow nod of appreciation that Vilkas got to the point, willing to listen without argument. He watched closely at the Companions and their achievements, respecting their honor to the hunt, though not pleased that Vilkas and his brother sought to be cleansed from Hircine. No matter. The Prince needed them. If anyone could find and help his children, it was the Companions. 

“Your mortal enemies, the Silver Hand, took them, though I have a strong suspicion it is more than that. They didn’t just take any two ordinary werewolves by abducting the twin children of Hircine. I didn’t even know they existed until tonight, but now that I am aware, I sense them. They still live. I need you to do what it takes to save them. I will be in your debt, pup. That is a gift I do not bestow lightly.”

“Very well. I will wake my brother and we will make haste. Where is your son exactly?” If Vilkas saved Hircine’s children and the Prince gave a gift in return, maybe he would cure Vilkas and Farkas of their lycanthropy. It was something to think about it, though he doubted Hircine would give up such control over his pets willingly.

“I can see your mind, pup. I will do anything. Talas is at a fort west in Whiterun Hold,” the Prince offered.

“We will do our best.”

After imprinting the location in Vilkas’ head, and without another word, Hircine vanished before his eyes back to where he came from.

Anriel couldn’t help it. Between the capture of her children and her exhaustion, she crumbled to the ground and wept. It wasn’t out of despair. She held onto hope thanks to Hircine responding to her. If anyone could save her children, it was him. But she was so tired, hurting inside and out. When her eyes finally dried, she slept.

Hircine soon returned to the cave to find his little huntress fast asleep in the cave ferns and dirt. She was filthy and wounded, but nothing could cover up her beauty. She hadn’t aged a day since he saw her last. Of course, she was Elven. It took centuries for age to take hold.

He sat down in front of her curled form and brushed her loose hair away from her face with fingers. The Prince knew if he saw her again, she would tempt him. It was why he ignored her all these years. He couldn’t get tied down to a mortal as Sanguine did. He didn’t really hate the other Prince for it. Not really. It was more jealousy that Hircine felt. Sanguine was unafraid to embrace all his desires. He even married his little mortal woman until her death. But then he grieved. Hircine had no time for grief. He had the hunt. The hunt was all that mattered. Did that mean he couldn’t fall for one damned mortal once in a while? What if he turned her to that of her children? When she died, she would be with him for eternity. Would she resent him for such actions? Probably.

Anriel woke to his gentle touches, eyes fluttering to see Hircine sitting there in front of her, tenderness in his eyes. Once upon a time, she would have loved it. Now, she was angry at him for abandoning her, leaving her children with lycanthropy that got them captured. Despite her ire, her heart still fluttered at seeing him whether or not she wanted it to, having no control over what her body wanted. The feelings were still there. He was, after all, the only man she ever bedded. He wasn’t a man, she reminded herself, but the results were the same. She loved him despite her anger.

“You are angry with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“I am. You abandoned me and my children. Did you know? Did you impregnate me intentionally?”

Her green eyes flared in frustration and anger, but there was still love there. He couldn’t control his inflated ego at the fact she was never with another man again. She still remained his. “I did not. I… was lost in you, Anriel, my little virgin huntress.”

“I am no longer a virgin, thanks to you. But…,” she sighed, looking away. “I cannot regret it because of my two beautiful children. They are everything to me. Will they be safe now? Did you find them?” she asked, changing the subject. She and Hircine didn’t matter at that moment.

“I found Talas. I cannot see Telona. There might be some sort of enchantment or ward hiding her from me. A strong one. Talas has no such barriers. I have sent someone special, two of my pups, to find them. If anyone can find and save them, it’s the Companions. I will monitor them.”

“And you can’t just get involved?”

“I cannot.”

Anriel saw regret in his eyes. He wanted to get involved, so she believed his words.

She stood up, dusting the dirt off of her armor, though she was covered in grime and blood, anyway. “I must go. I have to be there to help save my boy. Then we will find Telona.”

“There is nothing you can do,” the Prince said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto his lap. He raked fingers through her silky hair, feeling those same emotions coursing through him all those years ago. “Stay with me,” he pleaded, pressing tender kisses on her forehead.

The Bosmer reached up to touch his face as he cradled her. Yes, she still loved him, though hated him. It was a strange combination of emotions. “No. I will not rest until my children are safe. Thank you for coming to me and helping my children.”

“They are my children too.”

“By blood only. You were never there despite my best efforts.”

Anriel pushed off of him and stood up. Hircine didn’t grab her back, letting her go. He watched her gather her bow and quiver, then run out into the night without looking back.

Damn, how could a mere mortal riddle him with so much guilt? She still had love for him, but it wasn’t enough to keep her. Not after what he did to her when they first met. His little huntress still had a stranglehold on him. Her bravery and determination to save her children, pushing her beyond her abilities enthralled him to no end. He had to have her again. Maybe when this was all over.

The scraping of metal startled Telona awake. As her eyes cleared, the bastard Silver Hand that had been watching over her, opened her cage, sword drawn in case she tried to escape. If he thought that would hold her back, he had another thing coming. He was alone, so perhaps she stood a chance. 

She would take pleasure in killing him after he tied her up and force-fed her the food he brought. _“Eat up. Morric wasn’t doesn’t want you starving to death. And if you throw any of it up, I will make sure to hurt you where no one will notice. Trust me; I have my ways. Nothing would please me more,"_ he said the day before. After that, she made sure to eat all her meals.

“He’s ready for you,” said the force-feeding bastard.

“Who?”

“Morric. Turn around, hands behind your back,” he ordered.

Telona cursed, hoping he would leave her hands unbound, but she knew better. Instead, with lightning speed, she lowered her head and crashed into his body, shoulder penetrating his sternum. The wind getting knocked out of him was a lovely sound, but the man was a stone wall. He hardly moved an inch as she tried to squeeze her way out of her cage and run.

The Silver Hand, with one hand, grabbed her by the waist and flung her to the ground, and flipped her onto her stomach. With a knee pressed into her back, he put his sword down as she scrambled for it, but it was no use. He was too strong. He yanked her arms behind her back and bound her hands with rope. Angry tears spilled out of her eyes as hopelessness filled her. 

Once he bound her, he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. “Nice try, missy. There’s a reason I’m in charge of handling you. No one escapes me.”

“Bastard!”

“That I am.”

The Bastard, as he became known to Telona, forced her forward out of her cage and out of the room they kept her. Goosebumps trailed her skin as she shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. The icy fear spread through her, surprised she could still walk as her legs trembled. She was headed into the unknown. The only thing certain was that she was going to suffer. She felt it deep within her bones. 

They wound their way down a circular set of stone steps. It was dark except for the minimal lighting the sporadic torches provided. Her keen eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. They were high in a tower, that much was clear. When they reached the bottom, the Bastard rapped on the wooden door three times with a knuckle.

“Come,” said the muffled voice of Morric.

“Where do you want her?” asked the Bastard.

“On the table, please, and chain her up.”

Telona’s grew wide as they shifted back and forth in panic. Her body froze against the Bastard, refusing to go forward. “No, please,” she cried out. She wanted to be brave, but the fear was too much as the tears spilled.

The Bastard simply lifted her into his arms, set her down on the table, and cut away her bindings. She scrambled to get away again, but he shoved her back onto the table with so much force, she lost her breath. 

“Gently, now,” Morric warned.

Once Telona’s hands and feet were manacled, Morric sent the Bastard away. The Breton walked over and sat on the edge of the table he bound her to. His eyes so tender, almost loving as he dragged fingers against her face. The touch made her shrink away into herself, turning her head not to look into his kind, green eyes.

“So beautiful and so much fight in you. You’re going to need it,” he whispered. 

Instead of being tortured as she expected, Morric lifted a wet rag and set about cleaning the grime off her face and any skin that was exposed from her rags. 

“There. Feel better?”

“No,” she whimpered.

“You will soon. But… at a cost, I’m afraid,” he sighed as if the very thought pained him.

Telona didn’t know what that meant. Perhaps he wouldn’t torture her, but then why was she chained up? His actions confused her. She knew he hated her being Hircine’s daughter, but he was so gentle and tender. Then her thoughts drifted off to her brother, hoping he got away or was out there looking for her. All she had now was a fragment of hope.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, hating the sound of fear in her voice. All her life she was strong and independent. It took only a couple of days to reduce her into a blubbering fool, afraid. No, she wasn’t as strong as she thought. Her only chance now was to resist the man as much as possible.

“Make you into something more,” he said simply, bending down to kiss her forehead. 

Telona mewled in fear, tears spilling down her face. “Wha… what about my brother? Please…”

“We have other plans for him. Rest assured, he lives,” he said, wiping away the wetness from her face with thumbs. “Such sweet, delicious tears.”

She didn’t know what those plans were. Morric didn’t specify. Perhaps their plans were simple torture with her brother or his death. She shut down those thoughts, not willing to give in to despair just yet.

Morric uncorked a bottle he pulled out from his robes and lifted her head. “Time to drink now.”

Telona slammed her lips tight, refusing to drink anything. She didn’t know what the potion was, but it couldn’t be anything good. 

“None of that now. You’re being such a good girl. Let’s keep it that way, shall we? I would hate to hurt you, my dear. Open up, please.”

His words, while calm, were forceful with a hint of danger. He scared her more than the potion or the Bastard, assuming if he wanted her dead, she already would be. Telona slowly opened her lips as he poured the contents of the bottle down her throat. The liquid was sweet and flowery—the taste was unexpected. The potion didn’t hurt, but her mind grew groggy and slightly dizzy as her body paralyzed. Whatever he had planned, she wouldn’t be able to move, but she could hear, see and feel everything.

Morric bent down and kissed her lips, then stood off of her table and walked around behind her, circling like a vulture waiting for its carrion. His handsome, sweet eyes never wavered into anger or hatred. It scared her all the more because she couldn’t read him. 

She felt the fingers trail up her barefoot, then the electricity hit her with full force, traveling up her spine. She went rigid, her back arching as she screamed out in pain. It was only for a second, but it felt like an eternity. 

“Shh, it’s okay, my dear. It’s okay. What a good girl you are,” he said, as if he was a father soothing his child that fell and scraped her knee.

Again, he blasted her with that infernal lightning spell. This time a little longer. When she collapsed back onto the table, he was at her side. His eyes were full of pain and anguish as he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her. “I am so sorry, my dear. I’m here. Shh, don’t cry, my sweet beautiful creature. You are so strong and brave.”

Telona wanted to believe him. He seemed so earnest, but the hand pressed to her stomach sent more lightning through her. She had never been in so much pain in her life. Morric only kept it going long enough to hurt her, but not kill her. 

She whimpered, unable to move, wondering what she did so wrong in her life to be left with such a fate as this. 

“My poor dear. Does that hurt? I’m so sorry, but this is necessary. I hate to hurt you,” he whispered in her ear, pressing his lips on her cheek. “I care about you. You must know that, right? Never forget that I love you, but I must do this. You are so sweet and beautiful. Your pain and tears please me. Do you want to please me?”

Mewling sounds escaped her when he pulled away. That meant only one thing—more pain. This time it wasn’t from a spell, but a switch. It was the same every time. The whistling sound of it as it came barreling down on her sensitive flesh. With each whip and painful sting, Morric would heal her, pressing his lips to her healed wounds, telling her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. 

After who knows how many days or weeks, Telona could walk to her torture room without restraints, doing everything she was told. All she could think about was this desperation for his love and kisses, keeping her hopeful and alive. The pain still frightened her, but the reward was greater. All she wanted to do was please him. She laid down on the table without the manacles and potions, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to her.

As the days progressed, the pain grew worse. But Morric was there with his tender words, sweet kisses, and promises that he loved her. He broke her down with suffering and built her up with love. This tug and pull between pleasure and pain left her mind malleable to him. 

The switch came down hard on her bare stomach. Telona could feel the blood trickle down her flesh through the pain, but he was quick to heal her. The warmth of his healing spell was better than any sweet kiss he could give her. And he always followed it with such kindness. Soon, she couldn’t distinguish between pain and love. They were both one and the same. She wanted him to hurt her so he would be pleased enough to give his love to her.

Morric’s sweet kisses soon turned into lustful ones. She yearned for his touch, his tongue. The desire burned in her worse than any stinging switch to her flesh. She felt bereft without his lips to hers.

When he finished for the day, he grasped her face with two hands. His eyes glistened with tears of love as if her pain was his. As if he felt every switch, every shock of electricity himself. “You have come so far, so fast, my love. I have never been more proud, my beautiful Telona. I think it’s time you had a special reward for all your efforts. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please, Morric. I would like that. Anything for you.”

Morric gave her a broad and proud smile. “Then you shall have it! I can’t tell you how much your words please me. I love you.”

“I love you.”

What Telona wasn’t aware, between the tortures and tenderness, he was changing her. Morric whispered trigger words whenever he needed her to do his bidding. Words she couldn’t resist. They would become second nature to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Next: Saved in the nick of time.


	4. Narrow Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talas finally manages to escape his prison only to find himself surrounded and unable to flee to safety. It's not just the Silver Hand he needed to worry about. Telona has her own story. No longer does she need to escape, she's so tightly wound around Morric's finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW content and some non-con.

Talas couldn’t hear his sister’s screams, her pleas for help as he tried to figure out a way to escape. He had been trapped in his cell for nearly a week. The Silver Hand took her miles away from him, but he didn’t know that. Each time one of the ugly assholes walked by, he feigned sleep, hoping each time one of them would open his cell door. There was no other way to escape until they did. At least they fed him, as disgusting as the food was. They were keeping him alive for a reason, but no one bothered to keep him in the loop as to why. It would have been nice to know, though.

When a bandit looking thug approached—a female this time—Talas put himself in the corner of his cell as quietly as he could, feigning sleep. He heard the scrape of metal from a key inserting into the lock. _Finally!_ His heart pounded so hard, he wondered if the person could hear it. They would know he was awake. _Breathe in, breathe out as mother showed us._

_Wait for it. Wait…_

The woman walked into the cell, standing there. Talas didn’t dare open his eyes, but he sensed her presence that she was close. _A little farther in, sweetheart._

“Hey. Wake the fuck up. It’s time,” she said, kicking at his barefoot.

She didn’t get to do much else as he grabbed her ankle with lightning speed, causing her to fall back on her ass. He hated to do it, but he had to get out there. Before she had a chance to recover from the surprise assault, Talas punched her in the face several times, then grabbed her head and slammed it on the stone floor until she was knocked out. He pushed aside the guilt that he just beat up a woman and dug in her armor, pulling out a set of keys. _You made your choice._

There was no time to waste. He couldn’t just leave as is, needing weapons and preferably some armor. Surely they had stuff lying about somewhere. The only thing the woman had on her was a dagger. After he dragged her body in the dark corner of his cell, he locked the door behind him and began searching the prison. In a corner by the door were some weapons hanging there on a rack. He picked up a sword, buckling it around his waist. He wished there was a bow lying around, but he was grateful to have anything.

_Now to find Tel_. The prison was underground, he realized as he made his way up a flight of stone stairs. The place was musty and damp. It looked old with crumbling stones. He had his sword ready as he wound his way up higher and higher. Speed was a necessity, but he didn’t want to rush it either. Silence was key. There had to be a perfect balance between the two if he wanted to get his sister and escape with their lives. 

At the top of the stairs was a man with his back turned. Talas crept to the wall, pressing his back against it, hiding in the shadows, as he made his way higher. Thanks to his mother’s superb training, he was quieter than a whisper. With no boots, his bare feet barely made a sound as he used the balls of his feet to climb, pulling out the dagger he stole. 

The man took no notice of Talas. He didn’t turn around when the elf was right behind him, dagger drawn. With the speed of a cat, he silenced the man with one hand over his mouth and drew the blade across his throat, feeling the warm blood travel down his arm, the coppery smell assaulting his nose. He eased the dead man to the ground and scanned the area to make sure no one heard or saw him. All remained silent. 

He spared a few minutes to remove the bow and quiver from the guard along with a fur cloak. Then he matched feet with the dead man, needing boots. Nope, the asshole’s feet were too small. At least he had some warmth. _Thank Auri-El, I have a bow and quiver now._ He also pocketed some gold in case he needed it. 

The only place to go was out the wooden door. It seemed it was just the prison with two guards. When he first arrived, there were sounds from other prisoners, but they were gone by the time he made his escape. Talas didn’t know where the door led to, but hopefully to his sister. 

Unlatching the lock, he winced at the squeaking from the rusted metal hinges, holding his breath should anyone try to rush in. _Breathe, fool. The last thing you need is to pass out from oxygen deprivation_. With delicacy, Talas pulled the door open a crack and glanced around. The door led outside, inhaling the fresh, frigid air of Skyrim. Nothing smelled sweeter. 

As he took in the scenery before him, he was pleased it was dark, needing it to help cloak his escape. He could see well enough at night, better than the Nords who seemed to be patrolling the area. There were several on the ramparts, pacing back and forth like good little soldiers. Across the courtyard was a man smithing weapons, the pinging sound of metal against metal would hide his presence better. There was only one other building across the way. Telona had to be in there. He debated on taking out the sentries and smithy but thought better of it. If anyone came out to see them dead, they would raise the alarm, then chaos would ensue. _Chaos is bad._

With his stolen bow armed with an arrow, Talas slipped out into the night, watchful of the bad men who wanted him captured or dead. Once he reached the door to the other building, he crouched down, keeping his body pressed into the darkness, timing the metal hammering to his opening the door. He breathed a sigh of relief. _Don’t jinx it, elf. Not until you get Telona to safety._

When his back was to the door, his heart dropped. _Oh, fuck._ It wasn’t another prison, but barracks. There were several beds, row to row filled with the sleeping assholes. Even worse, his sister wasn’t there. He had to get out of there, and now. By the wall was another quiver full of arrows, he grabbed that and made his escape. But someone must have heard him as the man sat up.

“Who’s there?”

“Ugh, just me Rog. Gotta take a piss,” Talan said in his best Nord voice.

“Rog? There’s no Rog.”

_Shit. It was a hit or miss with these Nord names._

Talas fired off an arrow that slammed into the man’s head, killing him instantly as the others woke up. He shot several more arrows, killing them too, but there were too many. _Time to get your fine ass out of here, Archer._

He rushed out the door, taking quick aim to knock out the sentries on the ramparts, then struck an arrow through the head of the smithy. He couldn’t afford to be shot at from high above. _No time to waste._ He ran out of there, but they were close on his heels. 

“Stop him! But don’t kill him for fuck’s sake! Morric will kill us instead!” someone yelled out.

“Halt!”

“Stop, beast!”

“Oh, well since you asked so nicely! Yeah, I don’t think so!” Talas yelled back as he huffed it out of the fort, wishing he were in Falkreath, surrounded by trees. Damned Whiterun Hold was nothing but fucking grass and rocks. He just hoped he had more stamina than those men chasing him.

A war horn sounded into the night behind him, alerting to more of the assholes who captured him. There must have been more of them outside the walls of his prison. 

Talas stopped so abruptly, his feet slipped out from under him and he fell on his ass. He scrambled up, and nocked an arrow, firing at the men headed his way. They were surrounding him. _Shit, they must have been hiding out here. What to do… what to do._

“Now just take it nice and easy, elf. Come back and we promise not to hurt you… too badly.”

“Ha! Right. Alive but mangled. I’m not in the best mood for pain and torture today,” Talas said, firing an arrow at the man, missing as he ducked away on time. He never missed! _Fuck. Who are these guys?_ Then he felt it. A stinging sensation in his shoulder. When he looked down, he could see the end of the well-placed arrow sticking out. He didn’t feel the pain, but he knew it would hurt later when the adrenaline wore off.

Talas spun around, dizzy, seeing he was trapped. There must have been about twenty of the assholes. What did they want with him and why bother keeping him alive? With no other choice, he dropped his weapons and screamed out into the night as he changed into his beast form. The creature ripped out the arrow from his shoulder and attacked.

“Shit, he can do that at will?” someone yelled out.

“Stop him!” 

The fighting could be heard from the distance as they approached the ancient fort. Vilkas sniffed the air and caught a whiff of werewolf. The son, Talas, must have changed. That meant only one thing—they have him cornered. He and Farkas looked at each other with concern on their faces. Though Hircine gave no threats if they failed, they were certain there would be repercussions.

“Let’s go,” Vilkas said as they both sprinted off.

When they arrived, they hid behind a large boulder, analyzing the situation. There were around twenty or more Silver Hand and others they didn’t recognize, surrounding the werewolf. Dead bodies were strewn across the landscape, but Talas wouldn’t stand a chance with that many. If they got the opportunity to cut him with their silver swords, it wouldn’t take much effort to bring the beast down.

“What are they waiting for?” Farkas asked. “They can kill him easy enough, having him cornered like that.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they want him alive for some reason,” Vilkas replied. “Come on.”

With greatswords drawn, Vilkas and Farkas rushed into the melee to protect the beast, Hircine’s child. The creature was awfully large. One of the largest werewolves they had seen, but perhaps it was because he belonged to Hircine. The blood on the white fur stood out even in the darkness. He should be down, seriously injured, confirming Vilkas’ suspicions that the Silver Hand wanted him alive.

Farkas slammed his massive frame into a man dressed differently from the others, knocking him on his back, and thrust his sword into the man’s skull before he could recover. His keen hearing sensed someone coming up behind him. He whirled around, and swords connected before they tore into him. In one swift movement, the Companion released its hold and swung through the man’s neck, severing it clean through. Farkas didn’t wait to watch the head roll as he ran to defend the beast.

Vilkas also was next to the beast as he and his brother surrounded it, protecting it. The Silver Hand definitely didn’t want the werewolf dead as they drew near, slowly, the circle of men around them narrowing. Though there were still many of them, their numbers diminished, with about twelve left. Still horrible odds.

“We don’t know who you are, but you better back off or you will be killed. This creature is ours. We don’t want to kill it, but we have no qualms killing you,” said a man, dressed in similar armor to the others. 

Vilkas knew they were not part of the Silver Hand, and much more organized, harder to kill. “You will not have him,” he said, lunging at the man, clanging swords. He could hear Farkas do the same but didn’t look back. 

Vilkas was dazed when his eyes came into focus, lying on his back. He didn’t know what just happened. A spell of some sort flung him away. _Dammit, they have spells too._ A Silver Hand came down on him as he rolled away before the sword plunged into his head. He scrambled up before he was attacked again, but he was too slow in his heavy armor. The silver sword sliced cleanly through his thigh, nearly dropping him. The burn of the silver sent waves of pain through his body, weakening him. _Fuck!_ Dizziness hit him as he shook it off and thrust his sword into the man’s chest, killing him. 

Vilkas fell to his knees, the burning turning into something worse. He looked up to see his brother bleeding too and the beast continued its slaughter. Vilkas and Farkas were superb swordsmen, but there were just too many of them. He sensed failure. Hircine would punish them for this in death. 

He raised his sword as another man came barreling at him, but the asshole stopped in his tracks, eyes rolled up and collapsed where he stood, an arrow protruding out of his head. Vilkas scanned the area to find his rescuer. _There._ It was a female Bosmer, firing arrow after arrow, killing off the rest of the Silver Hand. He pushed himself up with his sword and limped over to his brother who was lying on the ground. Please don’t be dead. Now that the battle was over, his only thoughts were of Farkas as dread filled his heart. 

When Vilkas collapsed, he could see his brother was still alive and awake. He was just suffering in pain from the silver. “Brother… are you okay?”

“Define okay?” he quipped, groaning in pain.

Vilkas rested his body next to Farkas as the fire burned within. It would take a long time to recover from their injuries, but they would live.

“Talas!” Anriel cried out, rushing to her beast son. The creature was panting and whining when she reached up to grasp its furry face. She looked deep into his silvery eyes, getting it to calm down. “Talas, look at me, son. Breathe. Come back to me. You’re okay now.”

The scream echoed through the dark night as Talas changed back to his human form. He curled up into a ball on the ground, shivering from pain and cold. Anriel rushed off, searching the dead, and found a fur cloak. Yanking it off the corpse, she rushed back to her son, draping it over. 

“Talas. Are you okay, son?”

“Yes… I… I don’t know where Telona is. She’s not with me. They… must have taken… her somewhere else,” he said, gritting his teeth through the pain.

“I know. We will find her, son. I swear,” she said as she healed her son, though he could do it himself. “Now I need to check on these two humans and make sure they are okay. They came to your rescue. Hircine must have sent them.”

Anriel knelt next to the two prone men, faces contorted in pain, but no sound could be heard other than their breathing. She reached out to the first one and healed his injuries, then the other. 

“How do you feel?” she asked them.

“Better, thank you,” Vilkas said.

“We are grateful, ma’am,” Farkas replied, sitting up. 

“Thank you for coming to my son’s rescue. I’m Anriel.”

“I’m Vilkas and this is my twin brother Farkas.”

“Twins? Interesting. My son and his sister are twins.”

“We are aware. Hircine sent us,” Vilkas said. “Your daughter isn’t here. 

Anriel pulled Vilkas into a tight hug, then it was Farkas’ turn. Both men rubbed their necks, feeling awkward at the sudden appreciation. “Thank you for saving my boy. I can’t thank you enough,” she said, controlling her tears. 

When she turned back to Talas, he was tying on some breeches he removed from one of the larger dead men, then yanked off a tunic and boots, throwing them on as well. “We need to find Telona,” he said as he slipped on the cloak over his shoulders.

“We will,” Anriel replied, nodding. “Did they hurt you too much, son?”

He shook his head. “No. They wanted me alive for some reason. That gives me hope that Telona is okay too. We just need to find out where they took her.” 

Talas walked over, holding out his hand to the two Companions. “Thank you for coming to my aid. They may not have wanted me dead, but I am sure they would have made me regret my decision to leave their hospitality.”

Vilkas shook the elf’s hand, surprised by how big he was. Elves tended to be tall and lythe, but he was built like a warrior. Any injuries he had left healed rapidly. “We are glad to help.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t think Hircine would care, but he was insistent we find you,” Farkas said, also shaking his hand. “I’m glad we did, Talas.”

“It was exquisite timing,” Talas said, smirking. “And, you can call me Archer. Everyone else does. The only ones who call me Talas are my mother and my sister. Who are you, by the way? I heard Vilkas and Farkas, but you are wearing the same armor. Are you part of some guild?”

Vilkas nodded in appreciation at the Bosmer’s quick study. “Aye. We are part of the Companions. We also share the beastblood, which is why Hircine came to us.” Vilkas never told anyone, not even the whelps about the curse, but Archer was also a beast. There was no need to keep the secret from him.

“Vilkas here is also our Harbinger,” Farkas said, proud of his brother.

“You didn’t change like me,” Archer observed.

“No, we resist it, though we can’t change then turn back at will. Once we change, we lose all control. We were cursed,” Vilkas explained, not saying more. “It doesn’t matter. You’re safe now and we will be on our way.”

“Wait. Would you… mind if I joined you?”

“Talas… no, come home so we can find your sister,” Anriel pleaded.

“I’m not coming home, mother. I agree we need to find Telona, but we need help. The Companions can do that for us if they allow me to join them. You know me. I always wanted to go off on an adventure. Go home, mother. If I find her, I will come to you and we can get her together. But you need rest. You look exhausted.”

Then he turned to the two Companions. “I have heard about your guild. I would like to join and train with you if you’ll have me.”

Vilkas nodded. “We can always use more recruits. What are your skills besides your beast?”

Archer smiled, holding out his hands. “I’m called Archer for a reason,” he smirked.

“Excellent. Welcome to the family, Archer,” Farkas said.

“He is one of the best archers I have ever seen,” Anriel confirmed. “I trained him myself.” She smiled, but sadness gripped her. She just found her son alive and now he was leaving anyway. There wasn’t much she could do to keep him and had to let him go. 

Archer pulled his mother into an embrace and kissed her head. “Go, mother. I will contact you as soon as I have news. I love you. And please don’t cry. You know how it makes me feel when you or Telona get all blubbery,” he teased.

“I will miss you. I love you too.”

Anriel turned and ran as if she didn’t just run for days to get there and fought against the enemy.

“She seems like a good woman,” Vilkas said.

“The best, next to my sister.”

Telona was brought into his room where one of the Silver Hand women bathed her to clean all the blood and grime off from their sessions. She stood naked before him, goosebumps covering her body from the wet chill. The Bosmer was perfect despite being a child of Hircine. Eventually, Morric would have to kill her as was his duty, but not until she fulfilled her mission. In the meantime, there were no rules that stated he couldn’t have his pleasures with her. Taking the daughter of Hircine’s virginity would be exquisite. 

She was stunning with her long almost white, wet hair trailing down her body. Her silver eyes made her appear ethereal, but he knew better. It was the lycanthropic curse. Her rosy lips were plump and he couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his cock. The body was tall and thin. Her breasts weren’t huge, but they would fit perfectly into his hands. 

The elf stood there, adoration in her eyes as he scrutinized every inch of her, growing hard. She took well to his training, giving in to him rather easily. Once he had his fun with her, he would set her out to fulfill his wishes. Yes, she loved him with all of her heart and would give herself willingly to him.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” he asked.

“Yes, please. Thank you, Morric.”

“Master,” he corrected.

She blushed beautifully. “Yes, sorry. Thank you, Master.”

“That’s better,” he said, removing his robes and stripping away his small clothes. He stood before her, knowing his body would please her as she scanned his flesh, biting her bottom lip. His body was his temple and he took great care of it. “Do you like what you see, my dear? I am your reward for being a perfect pupil.”

“Yes, you are very handsome, Master.”

Morric stroked himself as she watched him, licking her lips as if she could already taste him. “On your knees,” he ordered.

Telona did exactly as she was told, dropping on her knees, eyeing him with such love and devotion. It filled his ego that he trained her so perfectly. She was clay to his artistic hands. Her naivety made it so easy. 

Morric strode over to her and ran a thumb over her lips, prying her mouth open. He held his cock in her face and thrust it into her mouth. “There’s a good girl. Take it all.” He had to instruct her exactly what to do because it appeared he was her first. But she learned well as he spilled into her mouth. “Swallow all of it,” he ordered.

Morric was at his desk, writing up his notes on Telona and his recent discoveries, leaving out the fucking he gave her. He looked over at her sleeping form in his bed. She was sprawled out, naked on top of his covers. His little virgin elf was no more. She was a wildcat in bed. Of course, he made her that way. If she wasn’t from such evil, he might have wanted more from her. But she would be his until the day he had to get rid of her. 

A knock sounded on his door, disturbing his lustful thoughts. He stood and opened it. “What!” he hissed to the Silver Hand man who was watching over Telona.

The man looked from Morric then to the sleeping form in the Breton’s bed. His eyes narrowed in anger. “What the fuck? I’ve come to retrieve her and here I find you fucked her?”

“I can do what I want with her. She’s mine.”

“Whatever. Just as long as you stick to the plan. Don’t get attached. She dies at the end of this.”

Like a snake, Morric’s hand was on the man’s throat as tight as a vise. He struggled to breathe, clawing at Morric’s hand. “I am in charge here. Not you. I can kill you before your brain even registers it. Or I can make it slow and painful. If I want to fuck this delicious elf meat, I can do so. Is that understood?”

“What… ever,” he gasped.

Just like that, Morric let him go as he coughed and struggled for breath. “Do you want her back in her cage or not?”

“No. Take her back to her table and wait for me. I want one more session with her.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” he replied, dripping with sarcasm.

Morric shook Telona awake. The woman fluttered her eyes open, once again, filled with love at seeing his face. She gave him a beautiful smile, stretching awake like a cat. “Time to get up, sweetheart. You are going back to your table.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, crawling out of bed and headed to the room where he brainwashed her, with the Silver Hand guard following closely.

The perfectly obedient Telona laid her back on the table. The Silver Hand guard stood and waited for Morric to show just in case she broke free of whatever spell the Breton had on her. He had to admit, the Vigilant had the elf wrapped around his finger. Not only that, but she worshiped him.

He moved from his shadowy corner and strolled over to her as she lay still, her eyes unseeing at the ceiling. It was the first time he saw her naked, growing hard, understanding her lure to Morric now. Surely he wouldn’t mind if he had a little taste of her. She was so compliant now. He reached over and groped a breast, pinching her nipple. Her breath shuddered, brows furrowed, but she didn’t move. 

The man grew bold as he slid a finger in her between her legs, growing harder to find she was wet. “You want me, don’t you?” he whispered in her ear, ignoring the tear that slipped out her eye. Yet she still didn’t move.

“ ** _Moraga_** ,” the voice said.

The woman’s silvery eyes grew dark like a rolling thunderstorm, looking directly at her guard. She sat up and in one swift movement, she unsheathed his dagger with one hand, pulling back his head with the other by the hair and sliced open his throat. Blood shot out, spraying her body and face as he crumbled to the ground dead.

“ ** _Lalor_** ,” Morric said.

Telona dropped the knife and fell back onto her table as if she didn’t just slaughter a man.

The Vigilant walked next to her, overwhelmed with pride at his killing machine. He trailed a finger through the blood covering her body. “You are almost perfect, my dear. One more session and there will be no stopping you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Next: The second escape


	5. A New Home and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Farkas get a true taste of Archer's personality. There is instant chemistry between Archer and Vilkas. Telona finally escapes the clutches of Morric. After arriving at Jorrvaskr, Archer and the twins immediately head out to find Telona. Hircine finds that he still wants Anriel.

“You can ride with me, Archer,” Vilkas offered as they approached where he and Farkas left their horses.

Before Vilkas jumped on, he removed his helm, letting loose dark, wavy locks that spilled down his sweaty face. It was shorter than Archer’s hair, but it came down his neck, below the jawline. His face was rugged, covered in coarse scruff and a couple of scars, but Vilkas looked no older than him. Maybe a few years older. His eyes were similar to Archer’s in their silvery reflection. The elf held his breath, trying not to ogle at the man, but there was an instant attraction. The Companion was stunning despite the blood, dirt, and sweat. He was handsome in a rugged way. _Shit. Talk about chemistry. I don’t suppose this wolf would be interested in a fabulous male elf?_

Farkas did the same, placing his helm on the horse. He looked just like his brother, but with cropped hair, shaved on the sides, the length falling in his face as he brushed it back. He was much broader than Vilkas, though. They certainly weren't identical twins, but they were similar enough, leaving no doubts about their relation to each other. Vilkas had lean muscle, whereas Farkas was built like a house. Though Archer was tall, the twins were slightly taller.

While they were both attractive, Vilkas was the one who held his interest the most. There was something mysterious about the man, stoic, whereas his brother had a more affable and kind face. Archer found stoic men challenging and sexy. He loved pushing them to laugh and smile. It was work, but it was a fun game.

He shook his head from the view. _Stop staring at Vilkas, fool._

Once Vilkas was on the horse, Archer jumped up behind him with ease, wrapping hands around his waist to hold on. After the Companion removed his helm, he now wished he removed his armor too, to grab onto that tight flesh he knew was hiding under all that steel. No one wielded two-handed weapons without a lot of muscle.

“Thank you again for your help back there. I’m not sure I would have survived it. Those assholes were determined.”

“You would have survived it. It didn’t look as though they wanted to kill you. Otherwise, you would be dead already with those numbers they had. Do you have any idea why they wanted you alive?” Vilkas asked.

“Yeah, the Silver Hand aren’t exactly discrete in their hatred for werebeasts. We know firsthand,” Farkas said.

“I’m sure it wasn’t because of my good looks, wit, and charm,” he quipped. “Honestly, I have no idea. They didn’t deem me worthy of such knowledge, apparently. So, you’ve had to face them before?”

“Aye. They…” Vilkas said, pausing, letting out a sigh as he adjusted in the saddle. He wasn’t used to riding in tandem with someone. “They killed our Harbinger and another member of our Circle who was next in line to lead.”

Though Archer wasn’t able to see him from behind, there was a lot of pain in his voice. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The Harbinger was like a father to us. We’ve been part of the Companions since we were pups. It’s been hard, but Vilkas is the Harbinger now,” Farkas explained.

Vilkas huffed in irritation. “Not by any choice of mine.”

“Ah, the reluctant leader,” Archer said. “I can see you brooding about your leadership duties now. Mulling over reports, sighing dramatically, then tossing scrolls against the wall out of sheer boredom.”

Farkas barked out a laugh as Vilkas turned and scowled at them. _Oh, that scowl is sexy as fuck._

“You’ve just met us and you already have my brother pegged. Yes, Vilkas is the king of brooders,” Farkas said, chuckling.

“I don’t brood.”

“Said the brooder.”

“I don’t brood,” Vilkas snapped again. “I am just not a leader.”

“Brooder…” Farkas whispered and winked at Archer, making him smile. He was going to like the Companions. He could feel it.

“So, who were those other guys trying to capture me? They differed from the Silver Hand—more organized. They also wore the same robe armor. Any clues?” Archer asked them.

Farkas just shrugged.

“I haven’t seen them before. I’m not sure, but it’s… concerning. If the Silver Hand are getting help from a group more organized, it could spell trouble for us. The Silver Hand make no secret of their hatred for us,” Vilkas said.

“We need to inform the rest of the Companions of the growing threat,” Farkas suggested.

“Aye, brother. We don’t want to be caught with our breeches down like last time. Fuck!”

After riding for an hour, Mundus was rising in the early dawn, creating ribbons of orange and pink hues through the clouds. In the distance was the city of Whiterun. Archer never visited the city, usually selling his wares in Falkreath or Helgen. Sometimes he went to Riverwood. The city looked larger than Falkreath, with a towering building like a massive guard watching over the smaller structures. The stone walls were like arms holding the city in a protective embrace. He was going to miss the trees, though. He loved the ancient woods of his home. Whiterun had trees in the city, but the surrounding land was barren other than grasses and wildflowers. 

Archer would have been more excited for his new life except for the fact that his sister was still missing. There wouldn’t be much time to enjoy his new surroundings. He wanted to be a part of the Companions and to make them his new family, but his sister was his priority. Perhaps they would let her join too. _I will find you, Telona. I swear._

When they dropped off the horses at the stable, they had to walk the rest of the way through town. Archer took in every detail as they made their way. 

“That’s the Drunken Huntsman over there. It’s a good place to grab some ale when the Bannered Mare is too busy, which is the place to be at night. The food ain't bad either. That’s Warmaiden’s to your right, but we already have our own blacksmith. Eorlund is the best smith there is. Then there are markets, shops—everything you need,” Farkas explained as they walked through town, wavings at people who greeted him and his brother.

Farkas took an instant liking to Archer. He could tell the elf was good-natured, easy to smile, despite his recent struggles. They needed more of that at Jorrvaskr. Too many moody Companions, which included his brother. They teased Farkas a lot for his upbeat attitude, treating him like he didn’t have a brain. He just shrugged it off, but it was nice to have someone join them who he could laugh with. Torvar could be fun, but he drank way too much. His words would get too slurred to have a decent conversation.

“What’s that massive building I saw coming in?” Archer asked.

“That is Dragonsreach, where Jarl Balgruuf lives. Rumor has it that it was built to hold dragons once upon a time, but there haven’t been dragons for centuries.”

“And this is Jorrvaskr,” Vilkas said, as they made their way up a flight of steps to a large building that looked like a capsized boat. It was the style of Nords back in the day.

“Jorrvaskr? This is where you all live, I assume?”

“Yep. It’s a good old home. We are all family here,” Farkas answered.

“So, I guess I’m going to have to prove myself first before you let me officially join?” Archer asked.

“Aye. I will see what you’re capable of regarding weapons first. If you can handle yourself, Farkas will have a couple of minor jobs for you. There will also be a larger job as part of your initiation. You get half of the gold for whatever jobs you do. The rest go into our coffers to cover our expenses,” Vilkas explained, looking at Archer up and down. The elf looked like he could handle himself, though when he saw him fight earlier that night, he was in beast form. Archer explained he was good with the bow, but Vilkas needed to see if he could use a sword too.

“What about my sister? I really need the help.”

“You will have it. Hircine requested it, but I am sure it was more of a demand. She will be our priority.” It wasn’t the demand that pushed Vilkas, though. It was the hope that Hircine would remove the lycanthropic curse from him and his brother. He wanted to find the woman and help Archer, but the potential reward was what drove him.

Archer felt a great weight lift from him. He wasn’t beyond asking for help and he got it. It was a relief. “Thank you, Vilkas… or do I call you Harbinger?”

“By Ysmir, please call me Vilkas.” The man sounded exasperated, proving he really didn’t enjoy leading. “The Harbinger is kind of a leader, but I don’t order people about, thank the gods. But… I’m no wise man like Kodlak was.”

“Nor patient,” Farkas teased, ignoring the scowl from his brother as Archer held back a snigger. The twins reminded Archer of him and his sister. They badgered each other constantly, but Archer wasn’t moody nor was Telona.

“Kodlak? I’m assuming he was your old Harbinger?”

“Aye.”

Inside Jorrvaskr was a large mead hall. In fact, the entire place was the mead hall, with a room or something off to the left. Archer assumed the living quarters were underground. 

“I’m going to get cleaned up and get some shuteye,” Farkas announced, heading downstairs.

After Farkas left, Vilkas introduced Archer to the rest of the Companions who were eating breakfast. The three women looked tired, but alert as soon as they saw the elf. He wasn’t surprised, controlling an eye roll. Despite being covered in dirt and blood, the man exuded attraction and confidence. His skin was fair, shoulder-length hair had slight waves and such a light shade of blond. His features were sharp, masculine. Vilkas saw what the women were seeing. 

“This is Aela,” Vilkas introduced. “She’s part of our Circle. The rest are the whelps. The dark-haired Imperial is Ria, she’s our newest member, and the scowling blond is Njada. Careful, she bites—”

“I don’t care if you’re the Harbinger, Vilkas. You’re still an asshole,” Njada snapped.

Vilkas’ sigh was audible, pinching his nose. “See what I mean? The redheaded man over there with the bloodshot eyes is Torvar, and the Dunmer is Athis. They will all help you get adjusted and trained. Everyone, this is our newest recruit, Talas, but he prefers to be called Archer.”

“Ladies,” Archer said, bowing to them. “It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Ria said, normally shy, blushing as soon as she opened her mouth.

He gave her a broad smile, then shook hands with the men. “I look forward to getting to know everyone.”

“Are you hungry?” Vilkas asked. “I could have Tilma bring up some extra food. She takes care of the place and keeps us fed.”

Archer shook his head. “I am, but I really would just like to clean up and get some rest.”

“Let me show you where you can bathe and sleep. When you’re rested and fed, we can discuss how to find your sister.”

“Sounds perfect. Thank you, Vilkas.”

She could tell it wasn’t yet dawn. There were no windows in the place, but it was just a feeling. Telona could be wrong, losing track of time since being captured. The only indication was Morric was still asleep in bed. His tall, lithe, naked body was stretched out on the covers. He looked beautiful and at peace.

Confusion coursed through her. She wasn’t sure whether she loathed the man or loved him. There were so many blank spots in her memory—flashes of pain, love, tenderness. They all jumbled into incoherent thoughts. All she knew was she had to get out of there. Instinct drove her as she slid out of the bed in silence. It was something she excelled at, thanks to her mother’s teachings. She had to find her mother and Talas. _Talas. Was he here too?_ There were no signs of him, unable to sense him as she did when they hunted together.

Telona put on her robe, then hovered, staring down at Morric. Her eyes glistened with tears as her mind struggled. She wanted to kill him, but her heart filled with love watching him sleep. She shook her head as if she could force her thoughts to behave. To shake away the confusion. Her hand reached out to touch him but withdrew. _Stop. Just leave. Now._

She turned, not looking back at the man she loathed and loved, and opened the door in silence. Her bare feet padded quietly through the halls. She debated on finding a weapon or just leaving as fast as she could. Armor was needed too, but her fight-or-flight instincts were screaming for her to just get out of there and worry about the rest later.

Most of the guards were still sleeping, but some patrolled the place, ever watchful. Telona wasn’t familiar with the keep. She was only familiar with Morric’s room, her cage he used to hold her in, and that… room where he inflicted pain on her. That place was the source of her confusion. It’s where she suffered and loved simultaneously. The thought pulled her back to him like a worm luring a fish. She hungered for it while she loathed it. _Dammit! Push out those thoughts and get out of here._

“Does Morric know you’re out running around?” said the male voice behind her as she reached for the door, freezing. Her heart nearly tumbled out of her throat in a silent scream. “I doubt he’s letting you go.”

_So this is the door to the outside._ She was so close, yet so far. There wasn’t any other choice but to kill him. Her heart thudded. If he sounded the alarm, Morric would make her suffer, despite her heart fluttering for it, yearning for it. She almost enjoyed her punishments because he loved her for it, wanting to please him in every way. She hated that the thought aroused her. _Stop thinking about him! Go!_

“I just needed some air. He trusts me.” Telona knew it was a weak explanation, but she needed to stall to find a way to disarm him and get out of there. She did a quick scan of his body. He was too big for her to take his armor, but he had a sword and dagger. _Perfect_.

“Lies. Get back there or else they will punish us both.” Telona pretended to cower as he reached for her. Quick as lightning, she grabbed his wrist, twisting it behind him, and slammed his head against the stone wall. He was dazed, but it didn’t drop him. In his confusion, Telona wrapped an arm around his throat, grabbing onto her hand, and squeezed his throat for dear life. She didn’t let go until he was on the ground, unmoving. Finally, she released her hold, checking for a pulse. _Dead. Good_. 

Telona dug around in pockets, finding some gold and keys. Then she stripped him of his sword and dagger. _Now to find some armor._

There was no turning back now. Once they found the dead guard, they would all be looking for her. Morric just may kill her then. That thought pushed her forward despite his lure, slipping out into the night. Telona took a deep breath of fresh air. It never smelled so good, tiring of the stale and musty odors of the old stones. 

_Run._

Telona ran out into the night, no longer caring about armor. Her robe billowed behind her, her naked form gleaming in the minimal light the torches provided surrounding the keep. 

“Halt!” someone yelled. 

When she turned, she only saw a man chasing her down. She dropped everything other than her dagger, facing him. She couldn’t fight hand to hand against his sword, so she threw her dagger. It made its mark in the center of his head, dropping him like a sack of flour. Telona ran, yanked out the knife from the man’s skull, and removed the bow and quiver. 

The sound of whistling brushed past her head. Several arrows landed next to her. _Too close._ She wasted no time firing arrow after arrow, killing the sentries up high on the ramparts. Once they were dead, Telona ran out into the early dawn with all her weapons in her hands and didn’t look back, ignoring the tugging at her heart leaving behind Morric. If she ever saw him again, he would probably kill her. 

Like last time, a presence woke Vilkas up from his nap. He was groggy from his lack of sleep from earlier that night. He sat up and rubbed the blurriness from his eyes with the heel of his hands. 

“Well done in finding my son,” said the deep voice across his room, sitting in a chair at his table.

Vilkas sighed, worried the Prince was going to be pissed at him for not finding his daughter too. “It was close.”

“He lives. I won’t forget that. Now about my daughter—”

“We will begin the search soon. She wasn’t there with him.”

“Yes, I am aware. I found her.”

If Vilkas wasn’t awake before, he was then—alert. “You found her? Where?”

“At the border between Falkreath Hold and the Rift. I only just sensed her, confirming my belief that wherever they took her was enchanted. She’s on the run, managing to escape, my brave girl.”

“Good, then we need to find her,” Vilkas said, then took a long look at the handsome Prince. “Why are you telling me this? Why not tell Talas… Archer? Shouldn’t he know about this?”

The man’s eyes darkened as they narrowed. “So many personal questions filled with mistrust. I do not know my son or my daughter, only recently learning of their existence. I will talk to them in due time. But I came to you first since you lead the Companions. It is your mission to organize. I will meet with Talas soon enough.”

“Aye. Very well. I will let him know so we can get organized.”

“Bring her back alive and well, and I will reward you. Please tell Talas that I will let his mother know about Telona.”

Vilkas nodded as the creature vanished from his room. He quickly threw on some breeches and a tunic. Then he rushed off to find Archer. 

The elf was in the communal room he shared with the other whelps. They were still training in the courtyard, so Archer was sleeping alone on top of his blankets, stretched out wearing only breeches. The sight of him nearly staggered Vilkas. He knew he was a large man, but he was muscular, strong. His body was well-formed despite his relaxed state. 

The Harbinger shut those thoughts away and coughed. “Archer. Wake up.”

Startled, the elf sat up and drew a dagger from under his pillow. Vilkas chuckled as it was something he did frequently too. Years of training, fighting, and being on guard did that to a person. He waited until the elf cleared his mind and took in his surroundings.

“Oh, hey Vilkas. Sorry about the knife,” he said, shoving the dagger back under his pillow.

“I do the same. Anyway, I am here because I have news of your sister—”

“Already? We’ve got to get to her!” he blurted, stumbling out of bed, throwing on his tunic. Then he pulled out a thin leather strip, pulling back his long hair from his face. 

Now that the elf had clean skin and his hair pulled back, Vilkas couldn’t stop staring at the man, glad Archer was distracted. If he had one word for him, it was gorgeous, especially with the smile of excitement on his face. He mentally shook his head and closed his eyes from the visual, telling himself to not get hung up on this man. He was a whelp. Besides, this man probably liked the ladies, and judging by the looks all the women gave him as they crossed town and into Jorrvaskr, they liked him too.

“How did you find her?” he asked, pulling Vilkas out of his thoughts.

“Hircine. He came to me, telling me he sensed her, which means she escaped.”

Archer narrowed his eyes. “I see. My absent father decided to make his appearance once more, but to you again instead of his own son. Well, at least he’s not completely useless. I suppose I should thank him for sending you to my rescue, though it doesn’t make up for twenty-seven years of absence.”

“You have a strange father, indeed.”

Archer laughed. “That I do. Understatement of the year. I need to let my mother know. She’s going to want to join us.”

“Hircine said he would do that for you.”

“Ah, now he’s a messenger. Someone’s making up for lost time. It’s going to take more than that for me to call him ‘daddy.’”

Vilkas leaned in the doorway, arms folded as Archer finished getting ready, smirking. What a smirk it was. The elf stared at his handsome features, finding himself strangely shy. So unlike him. Normally, Archer was a big flirt. _Stop. It’s time to find Telona. Let’s worry about getting into Vilkas’ breeches after your sister is safe and sound._

“Let’s get you set up with some armor after we grab Farkas.”

“Sounds good.”

Archer was in a fantastic mood now that they knew where his sister was and that she was alive as they headed to the Skyforge. It was just a matter of finding her and bringing her home or back to the Companions. Whatever she wanted. He, Vilkas, and Farkas were up at the smithing area as Archer dug around for some armor already made, not having time to get fitted. Most of it was steel. Not his thing. He pulled out a studded leather vest and breeches that fit relatively well. 

“This will have to do for now, though it’s a little snug in the ass area,” Archer said, waggling his butt, making Farkas laugh. Vilkas didn’t even crack a smile, but he couldn’t hide the gleaming humor in his eyes.

“Well, at least Farkas likes my ass.”

“It’s not bad for a guy, but I prefer the asses of the feminine persuasion,” Farkas said, winking, but Vilkas refused to be baited.

“Wouldn’t you prefer something a bit stronger, preferably made of steel?” Farkas asked when Archer donned his armor.

“Nope. I’m an archer, not a warrior. I can’t move fast enough in that heavy armor, and I need my arms unrestrained to shoot faster.”

Vilkas shrugged. He didn’t care as long as they could get the job done and they all came back alive. And yes, Archer had a nice ass. “Ready to go?”

Archer slung a bow and quiver to his back and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go get my sister.”

Anriel sat in her daughter’s bed, holding a doll she used to play with as a child. Telona kept it for memories, but the poor thing was falling apart. Determined to do something and distract herself, she brought the doll to her room and pulled out a small box that contained some needles and thread. As she sat down, she sewed up the holes in the doll through blurry eyes, struggling not to cry. 

Talas was alive and she could feel her daughter was too. But what condition her daughter was in was a different story. Anriel saw all those people who surrounded her son. They meant harm, whether or not they killed him. 

She hated this sitting around and waiting! Anriel was used to taking action, not sitting idly by. So she continued to sew, which helped to keep the despair at bay. 

“I’ve come to tell you Telona is alive and escaped from her prison,” said the baritone voice, startling her.

“By Auri-El! You scared me… So you found her! Is she… is she well?”

“She looks unharmed. Talas and the Companions are off to get her. I thought you would like to join them, so I came to let you know where she is.”

Anriel put the doll down and scrambled to grab her bag, stuffing it with necessities. “While I appreciate your help in ensuring the safety of my children, why? Why go through all this trouble? You aren’t intending to be a part of their lives, are you?”

Hircine’s eyes narrowed at the busy little elf. “And what if I am?”

She scoffed. “After twenty-seven years, I doubt they will be much interested. I took care of them. I loved them. You got me pregnant and abandoned me, which abandoned them.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Excuses. You’re a Daedric Prince. How could you not sense your own blood?” She was mad now. It was hard to believe she loved him once, and for what? One night together? How could she? He bedded her and left. It was only that one night where he treated her like she was perfect. That she was the only one who could win his heart. The only thing she didn’t regret was her children. 

Hircine stood in front of her, bustling around, grabbing her by the arms, stopping her in her tracks. 

Anriel tried to pry his hands away, but he held fast. He was strong, but he didn’t hurt her either. “Let me go. I have to find my daughter. I appreciate your help, but it’s done. My children are safe.”

“Had I known, I would have come.”

“Only proof that I wasn’t enough. Trust me, I understand.” Anriel forgot how bitter she was that he abandoned her after getting her pregnant. But really, what did she expect? Marriage to a Daedric Prince. Ridiculous. She was being naïve. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know why I’m mad anymore.”

To her surprise, the Prince pulled her close to him, holding her. “You are enough, which is why I ignored your calls. I don’t fall for mortals, my little huntress. I don’t get attached, but I had to have a taste of you, wanting more, but I wouldn’t allow myself. But seeing you again…”

“Don’t. Don’t say it. Please… let me go. I have to find my daughter.”

Hircine released her go with some reluctance. It was strange now that she wanted nothing to do with him; he wanted her more. He watched her walk out of her room, grabbing her weapons. When she turned her head, looking at him, she had a small smile on her mouth. “I thank you for helping to save my children. I will never forget that.”

It sounded like a goodbye to him rather than appreciation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated and welcome!
> 
> Next: Hircine meets children for the first time.


	6. Search and Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer, Vilkas and Farkas leave Whiterun to find Telona who managed to escape her torturer. Hircine confronts his daughter for the first time and helps her through it. He attempts to meet his son, who refuses to acknowledge him. Hircine found someone he wanted to chase again.

Vilkas left Aela in charge as he, Farkas, and Archer left for the stables to rent horses. It was early morning, and a fog was rolling in, indicating it would warm up later in the day. If it weren’t for the future prospects of warmth and light, the fog would have felt ominous.

“I don’t have any gold to rent a horse, Vilk,” Archer said.

 _Vilk?_ He inwardly cringed. No one called him Vilk. He hated the nickname, preferring Vilkas. “It’s… never mind,” he sighed, letting the name go. “Don’t worry about the horse. We barter for them, doing jobs in exchange for free rentals.”

Archer crossed his arms, leaning against the fence as they picked their horses for the day. “Are you sure because I wouldn’t mind riding up close behind you again?” he asked, winking, then chuckled when Vilkas turned beet red.

“Careful. Vilkas has punched someone for less,” Farkas said, laughing.

Archer waved an indifferent hand. “Oh, I’m just a tease. Ignore me.”

“Vilkas needs a good tease once in a while to remind him not to swell on his ego.”

“You know, I’m standing right here. And… ugh, I don’t have an ego,” Vilkas huffed.

Archer grinned at the flustered man. It was going to be too easy to flirt and tease Vilkas. “An ego well-deserved,” he said, looking Vilkas up and down. 

Vilkas scowled at him, arms folded. “We have an important mission. Don’t you take anything seriously? We are off to save your sister.”

“I take everything seriously, even when I have a smile on my face. My sister saved herself. We are just going to go get her. She’s better at hiding and stealth than I ever was. It made for some jealous, heated moments! Drove mother crazy. Anyway, sometimes we need humor and to lighten up, especially during intense or dark moments. Though you're better looking at brooding than I do."

“Better looking… ugh. I don’t brood.” _Why do I bother?_ He figured Archer and Farkas were teasing him, falling into their trap every time. Maybe Archer was right and he should lighten up. Though he had to admit that he liked Archer, finding him attractive. Not that he would ever admit that to the elf. _This is stupid. He doesn’t think of me like that. He’s just teasing me._

“So, do you have anything that won’t try to buck me off, shooting my ass to Masser? Preferably an old mare on her last legs?” Archer asked the stable boy.

“Afraid of horses, Arch?” Farkas teased.

“I love horses when I’m not on them or riding behind broody breeches over there. I just don’t have a lot of experience riding. We always hunted on foot because horses make too much noise. The one we had carried our goods from town to town.”

“Fine. You can ride with me,” Vilkas said, relenting just to shut the elf up. _Sure, keep lying to yourself._

“Don’t mind if I do. Thanks, Vilk!”

“It’s Vilkas,” he corrected.

“Thanks, broody breeches.”

“Fuck. This is going to be a long couple of days,” Vilkas groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Archer climbed behind Vilkas for the ride deep into Falkreath. She could be in the Rift too, depending on her direction. He joked around, but it concerned him he wouldn’t be able to find her since she was so good at covering her tracks. He may have to call on his… ugh, that Daedra, Hircine for help. It was the last person—creature—Archer wanted to call upon. But his sister was worth it.

He must have had a look of concern on his face because there was a pat on his back from Farkas as he rode up next to them. “We’re going to find her.”

Archer gave him a bright smile, burying his stress away. “I’m certain we will if she doesn’t find us first.

She bundled up her thin robe around her, shivering. It wasn’t that cold out, but the fabric was too flimsy. The robe was made from spider silk. A gift from Morric. It was beautiful, but it didn’t take long to get dirty and tear as she rushed through the woods in her escape. 

Telona gathered dry twigs and leaves, then broke apart fallen branches and made a pile. After surrounding the stack of wood with rocks, she used a mild flame spell to light it. She wasn’t the best with spells. Mostly she was good with healing. But it was enough to start a fire and get her warm. Her relief was audible as the fire grew, raising her hands in front of the flames to warm up.

Sleep was hard to come by, though she tried. It was either noises in the night, alerting her, afraid they found her, or it was the dreams when she managed to doze off. They were dreams of torture. Nightmares, really. So much pain. Each pain Morric gave her, he rewarded with love and kindness. It took everything she had not to return to him, leaving her with this strange desire for his pain. The only thing keeping her going was finding Talas and her mother. They must have been so worried.

Too much was running through her head. Too many doubts. Did she do the right thing in leaving? _Yes! Mother and Talas will be worried._ She felt like she had a rope tied around her throat, pulling her, tugging to yank her back to Morric. A rope she was almost willing to wear. The tears finally spilled, sliding down her face, but she didn’t let them release into a full sob. 

“Why the tears?” said the baritone voice.

“By the gods!” she cried out, scrambling away from the fire. The man sitting next to her appeared out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of her. “Who are you! Are you here to take me back?” she asked. “I don’t think I want to go back there. No! I know I don’t. You can’t make me!”

“Hush, girl. I’m not here to send you back. I’m here to tell you to wait for Talas. He’s coming for you, as is your mother.”

Telona looked closely at the man. His long white hair with silver eyes like hers seemed familiar somehow, though she was certain she never met him before. “Talas is alive then? Mother is okay?”

“Yes, they live. The Companions and your mother rescued Talas.”

The relief filled her. At least they saved her brother, though she worried what torments they put him through. 

“Who are you, anyway?” she asked.

“I’m your father.”

She scoffed. “Hircine abandoned us. Why would he come to my rescue?”

“I wasn’t aware of you.”

“You weren’t aware of me and Talas because you chose to ignore mother! Abandonment is still abandonment. I don’t need your help. We did just fine without you,” she hissed.

“Yes, until now,” he said, taking no offense to her outburst.

“Why now? I can handle myself.”

Now that she was no longer afraid, Telona sat closer to the fire again, warming her hands. She didn’t need Hircine. _Why does he even care?_

“I would have come sooner had I known you. Anyway, I’m here because I understand you are good at covering your tracks. Talas or your mother won’t be able to find you if you keep moving. I also thought you could use these,” he explained, waving a hand at a pile of leather items that appeared out of nowhere along with a bow and quiver full of arrows. “These will be better than that rag you’re wearing and those pathetic excuses for weapons.”

She reached for the items, holding them up. “They’re… nice. Thank you.” As much as she wanted to, she would not turn away the gift. She needed the protection.

“You’re welcome.”

They both sat by the fire in silence. Hircine watched his beautiful daughter stare into the flames. She looked troubled. Her mind looked torn. The Silver Hand did something to her. The thought angered him, feeling protective over her. If something happened to her or Talas, he would have to break his rule and get involved. He would kill every one of them or turn them to werebeasts, then kill them so they could spend eternity in the hunt as his prey.

“What happened to you? I was unable to find you like I was Talas. There was some sort of enchantment I couldn’t breach surrounding you.”

Telona eyed her father. Genuine concern filled him. “They took me away. It’s not just the Silver Hand. There was a man—a leader, I suppose. He’s a Vigilant of Stendarr. They took me and Talas because they found out we are the children of Hircine.”

The Prince’s eyes narrowed, filling with anger and dread, wondering how the Vigilants found out. “What… did… he… do?”

The question was so forceful; she didn’t dare oppose him. Her lip quivered as more tears slipped out. It made her angry. She didn’t want to tell him—tell him she enjoyed it. That she was torn and wanting to go back to him. 

“Tell me now.” His voice was calm, leaving no room for argument.

“His name is Morric. He’s… powerful. It’s hard to… resist him,” she began. “I can only remember bits and pieces. Things are jumbled in my mind like a stew sitting too long on the fire. My brain is mush. There was a lot of pain—”

“I don’t see any marks on you,” he said, but he looked like he believed her.

“He healed me. With every pain he inflicted, he would heal me with spells and... love. Soon, I became a willing participant in his pain and torture. I endured it so I could receive his tenderness, his kisses. Despite being ashamed, I still want to go back. I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this.” It was humiliating, and she hated herself for feeling the way she did, but it all came tumbling out of her, anyway. 

Hircine listened to her story, growing angrier and angrier. It wasn’t a torture about the pain as much as creating some sort of mind control over Telona—some deranged bond between his daughter and this Morric. The bastard still seemed to have a powerful hold over her. No wonder she was so confused. The Prince didn’t comfort the lost and the wary. It impressed him when one could lift themselves up against all odds. Yet here was his daughter he only came to recently know, sensing her pain. He was beginning to understand what Sanguine felt for his own child and lover. He made fun of the other Prince for it. Here he was with that same pull towards Telona who wept in front of him. 

There was no shame in it. Despite her confusion towards the man who tortured her, she escaped on her own. There was nothing he could do about the man surrounded by wards. He was powerful to keep Hircine from seeing him. Perhaps the Companions could hunt him down.

Hircine stood up and sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. It was awkward, but it was his way of showing her that he wanted to be a part of her life. He watched enough mortals to understand this was the right thing to do. The Prince held Anriel once upon a time because he wanted to. He loved her in his own way. When Telona rested her head on his shoulder, he relaxed. Not as stiff.

“You are out of that now. You’re a strong girl and you will recover, especially when you reunite with Talas and Anriel. They will make you feel better.”

“I don’t understand why you care, but thanks for trying,” she said, calming down.

“You’re my child.” 

Once she settled down, Telona sat up as he dropped his arm off of her. She seemed better. 

“Your brother is arriving with two of my pups from the Companions. He is joining their ranks. I think it would be a good place for you to be too. You could train with your brother. They are a wonderful family, even if they want to rid themselves of my blessing.”

“What about my mother?”

“You can talk to her. I am sure she will be happy with you just being alive and well.”

“I may be alive, but I’m not well.”

“You will be. They will be here in a few hours. I will go. In the meantime, I would like to give you a gift,” he said, standing up.

“You already gave me armor and weapons.”

“This is a special gift,” he explained. Hircine leaned down and rested a hand on her head as golden light traveled like ribbons through her mind. “There. Now you will have more friends. When you find yourself alone and in trouble, you can summon two ice wolves to assist you. I will do the same for your brother, but he… doesn’t want to talk to me right now. I can sense the anger from him. Regardless, I need to inform him I found you.”

Telona nodded in understanding. “Yes, he is angry you abandoned our mother. He will get over it, eventually. Thank you for the gift… father. That is… strange to say,” she said, breathing out a small laugh.

Hircine nodded and vanished, leaving her alone by the fire once more.

Vilkas, Archer, and Farkas made a quick camp to have a bite to eat before moving on. They had no intention of sleeping until they reached Telona, but the horses needed rest too. Though it wasn’t outwardly apparent Archer was stressed or worried, he grew quiet. Vilkas watched him eat his meager meal, staring at the fire, lost in thought. His long legs crossed and stretched out before him, leaning against a tree. 

Vilkas had only been interested in men a couple of times. It was rare that one could draw him in so much. Despite Vilkas’ snarls and annoyances, he secretly enjoyed Archer’s teases and attention. Even though he hadn’t known the elf that long, it was strange to have him so quiet. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Are you doing well?” he asked the elf.

Archer looked up and gave him a broad smile. “I am now,” he winked, but Vilkas knew better. He realized that Archer was using a mask of humor to hide his troubles. The Companion gave him a small smile instead of getting pissy as he usually did.

“It’s okay if you want to talk about—” Farkas started.

“I’m fine,” Archer interrupted, offering the other twin another smile.

“Your mother will arrive within the hour,” said the deep voice out of nowhere, but none of the men flinched. “Your sister isn’t too far. She is waiting for you.”

A look appeared on Archer’s face that neither Companion twins had seen before. Gone was his light and humor, replaced with some deep-seated hate. “Oh, look. It’s _dad_ to the fucking rescue! You’re twenty-seven years too late.”

Hircine stood in silence, arms folded, watching his son fume. He didn’t expect open arms, but he also didn’t expect the seething hatred either. “I didn’t—”

“Know? Horker shit! You’re a Daedric Prince. You… _things_ are practically gods. Whatever. You said your peace. You can go now.”

“Son—”

“Yeah, you don’t get to call me that.”

“Fine, I will leave, but I have a gift to—”

Again, Archer interrupted, refusing to hear anything the Prince had to say. “No. I want nothing from you,” he said, voice surprisingly calm, eyes staring at Hircine, unwavering.

Hircine nodded. “Very well. I won’t give up, but I will leave you for now. Don’t forget to wait on Anriel. Telona is expecting you all.” With that, he vanished.

“Archer—” Farkas started, a bit shocked by the elf’s anger. He hadn’t known him that long, so perhaps the temper was normal. 

Instead of snapping, Archer smiled at the larger twin. “It’s fine. He’s gone now. He’s not worth getting this angry over. Sorry about that.”

Vilkas would never have dared talk to Hircine like that, but Archer was either brave or Hircine wouldn’t have punished his son, no matter what. “You have every right to be angry.”

“I shouldn’t even care enough to have an outburst towards him, but apparently I do. Anyway, I am sure he wasn’t lying. We wait on my mother and find Telona.”

Archer must have dozed because he woke up blurry-eyed as a female face came into focus. Green eyes looking down as she stirred him awake, smiling. 

“Talas, my sweet boy. I’m here. Are you rested enough to reach Telona?”

“Yes,” he nodded, sitting up, stretching, and yawning. He looked around to see Vilkas and Farkas had also slept but they were waking up to the talking. “Hircine was here.”

“Yes, he told me.”

Archer rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. “I suppose he told you of my brief outburst.”

Anriel smiled. “My Talas has a temper? Never,” she teased, feigning shock. “He just told me you weren’t happy to see him and looked strangely anguished about it.”

“Good.”

After a quick bite to eat, they all stood and stretched, packing up their horses. By the time they headed out, dawn was streaming through the thick trees, sending thin rays of light through the canopy. 

“Telona is on the border between Falkreath and the Rift,” Anriel explained.

Archer nodded as they galloped towards his sister, his mother riding with Farkas.

The ride was in silence other than the hoofbeats of the horses and their heavy breathing. Soon, they approached the border and in the distance, they could see smoke rising from a camp. _That must be her_. Archer’s stomach grew into tight knots, worried about her condition. 

“Telona,” Anriel yelled out.

“Mama?” said a feminine voice in the distance to where the smoke was.

Anriel and Archer both jumped off the horses and ran to her. He was the first to reach her, rushing her, and lifted her in his arms as she wept on him. “Brother,” she sobbed. “You came.”

“Of course, I came, idiot.”

When their mother arrived, she also held her two children. They stood there in relief at their reunion and that they were all alive. 

“I knew you would escape, sis. You’re the most clever person I know, next to mother,” he said, pulling away from her, holding her back by the shoulders to look at her.

Telona looked tired, broken. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Something was wrong. “What happened?” he asked. “Something’s wrong.” Archer was so close to his sister, he could read everything that crossed her face.

Her eyes glistened some more, but this time it wasn’t out of joy at their reunion. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Everything is fine now,” she said, holding him tight to her. 

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I… I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go.”

“Telona, my girl, talk to us,” Anriel pleaded.

“Later. I just need to get out of here.”

Everyone let the issue drop and got Telona situated on the horse with Farkas.

“I’m going to head home, children. If you need me, I will be there. I’m glad you two are safe, so please stay that way. I love you both,” their mother said, her eyes tearing, but she refused to shed them. They were both adults, finally leaving her. 

Archer kissed his mother on the forehead, then jumped behind Vilkas. “I love you too. I will send letters.”

“Bye, mother,” Telona said, as mild depression hit her, hating to leave her mother alone. But she promised Hircine she would go with the Companions.

Two days later, Anriel sat at home by her fire in her chair, lonely. She missed her children something fierce, but she understood the day would come that her little birds would leave the nest. That didn’t mean she liked it. Part of her thought about moving to the outskirts of the city of Whiterun to be closer to them. Perhaps she would, but she didn’t want to smother them either.

“I could give you some more,” Hircine said, appearing out of nowhere.

“You know I have a door. Use it,” she snapped, steadying her heart with calming breaths.

Hircine nodded and sat down by the fire next to her. “Do you want more? You’re still young.”

“More of what,” she said, wondering what he was getting at.

“Children.”

Anriel barked at a laugh and looked at him as if he was insane. Perhaps he was Sheogorath in disguise. “With you? Don’t be ridiculous. Surely two children are enough for you, especially when you intended none.”

“But you want them and I can give them to you.” He didn’t know why he was offering her more children. He was such a fool, offering to sire more children for her. But Anriel did something to him he could scarcely explain. 

“What I want is my current children, but they are now adults. I am not replacing them with new babies.”

“But you’re lonely,” he insisted.

“And you’re crazy. Hircine, why in Oblivion do you care what I feel? You never cared before. Why start now?” By Auri-El, why couldn't he just leave her alone?

“I always cared… in my way.”

“No, you just want to fuck me again,” she snapped. It wasn’t like her to curse, but this thing with Hircine pissed her off. He was forcing himself back into her life again, if only for a fleeting moment before he ran away, abandoning her once more. She would not do it. There would be no more babies, especially from him.

“I love you, my little huntress,” he insisted, undeterred, brushing away a stray lock from her face.

“As if you know what love is, Prince. None of you do. All you do is torment us, mortals, for your pleasure,” she said, pulling away from his touches.

“You would be surprised at what we are capable of.” His thoughts kept drifting back to Sanguine, the only one of the Princes who had a child that he loved. Hircine didn’t even know his children, but he cared about them. Had he known them since they were infants, who knew if his feelings would run deeper? It was all new to him.

Hircine grabbed the elf’s hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, tender, but Anriel pulled it out of his grasp.

“Please, leave.” Her voice was soft but demanding.

“As you wish, but I don’t let things go easily,” he said.

“Yes, I know. You’re the hunter and I’m the prey. That’s what is wrong with all of this. I’m no prey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated <3
> 
> Next: Archer and Telona make a new home for themselves.


	7. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telona and her rescuers head back to Whiterun as they try to find out exactly what happened to her. She is then welcomed into the Companions, getting to know her. Morric finds out Telona escaped.

Archer watched his sister sleep in the arms of the larger Companion, worried for her. Archer couldn’t be more happy about finding Telona alive and well, but was she? She was alive, but if she was well or not was the question. He didn’t get a chance to talk to her about what happened before she fell asleep on the ride back to Jorrvaskr. Her eyes were different. There was pain there. A little darkness. When she smiled, it was sad. He figured she was trying to reassure him, but she was his twin. He knew everything about her. _What did they do to her?_

As nightfall approached, the group scouted for an area to make camp. They approached a creek in the clearing of the woods. It was perfect to water the horses and get some rest.

“Hey. Wake up,” Farkas said as he tried to stir Telona. “We are going to make camp.” Because she didn’t wake up, he jostled her a bit and spoke louder. “Come on. Wake up.”

The pain in her chest was staggering when she startled awake from the nightmare, gasping. She looked around confused, feeling arms wrapped around her. Telona looked up to see a large man looking down at her, eyes filled with kindness, but in her confusion, she didn’t recognize him and began struggling. 

“Get off me! Let me go! Who are you?” she yelled out into the night.

“Telona!”

She froze to the voice that yelled her name. _Talas?_ She looked around then saw her brother on the ground looking up at her, his arms reaching out.

“Come on, Tel. I’ll help you down.”

“Talas? Oh, Talas. That’s right. You and two men found me,” she said as clarity hit her seeing her brother. She eased off the horse and into her brother’s arms, who eased her down. 

“You’re okay, sis,” he whispered, pulling her close to him, holding her. “I’ve got you.” The terror in her eyes, when she woke up, tore at him. Whatever she went through was horrific. It had to be. She was always so happy and confident. Seeing her in pain and confused ripped at his heart. He wanted to kill every single man who dared look at her wrong. When he found out who hurt her, who changed her kind eyes to ones of terror, he was going to peel their flesh off their bones.

Telona nudged him away and gave him a small smile. “I’m fine, Tal. Just a… dream. That’s all it was.”

He knew she was lying, but he let it go. He would find out either way who hurt her and kill them.

“We rest here for the night, then we can push on early in the morning,” Vilkas stated, pulling the horses to the creek, surrounded by grass, and tied them to a tree so they could eat and drink.

“I’ll build a fire,” Farkas said, walking through the woods, gathering old wood and kindling.

Archer needed to hunt for their dinner but didn’t want to leave his sister, worried about leaving her alone. She wasn’t alone with the Companions there, but she didn’t really know them yet. As if reading his mind, Telona gave him a reassuring smile. “Go. I’m fine. Really.”

“Are you sure?”

“We have to eat, Tal, and I’m starving.”

He kissed her forehead, then grabbed his bow and quiver off the horse and ran into the woods.

Once Farkas got the fire going, she sat down, crossing her legs by the fire to warm up, looking over at the two Nords sitting next to each other. “Are you brothers?” she asked.

“Aye. We got little chance to talk since you fell asleep as soon as we rode off. I’m Vilkas and this is my brother Farkas. We are twins like you and Archer.”

Telona smiled at that. Two sets of twins. What were the odds? 

Farkas rummaged through his pack and pulled out a bottle, then walked over, handing it to her. “It’s ale. I figured you could probably use it after everything.” 

“Thank you,” she said, opening the bottle and taking a large gulp of the alcohol, wishing she had something stronger. 

Her hair was a tangled mess of leaves and twigs after her escape, but Farkas couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was beautiful with a strong jaw and intense eyes. She looked a lot like her brother, with her flaxen hair. 

Despite the fire, she shivered, so Farkas removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Her smile was small but grateful.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you helping me and Talas?”

Farkas spoke up before his brother could. “Hircine sent us. We found Archer well enough. He managed to escape the fort they were holding him in, but there were too many of those bastards. Vilkas and I found him just in time and we were able to beat them back. Then your mother showed up and pretty much saved the day. We were nearly defeated. There were just too many of them.”

“Archer has joined our ranks. He wants to be a part of the Companions. If you want, when we arrive in Whiterun, we can talk about whether or not you want to join,” Vilkas said. “We could use more capable recruits. Your brother has told us you are quite skilled in stealth and daggers.”

“Yes, our mother taught us well. I want to be where my brother is. If he’s staying, then so will I.” There was no doubt in her mind. The thought of being separated from Talas after everything sent chills through her despite the warmth of the fire and cloak.

“The master hunter has returned with dinner! We will eat well tonight,” Archer said, tossing several rabbits by the fire when he returned.

“Always the humble one,” Telona laughed.

“Are you saying I am _not_ a master hunter?” he huffed.

“You’re a master at lacking in humility,” she teased.

Archer waved a hand in dismissal. “Pft. As if you never shove your stealth skills in my face. Please.”

Vilkas watched the two Bosmer interact. He could tell how close they were. It was a lot like him and his brother, though Vilkas wasn’t the teasing sort. 

“Let me ask you. You are the children of Hircine. Does that give you some sort of… power or something? Do you have the same abilities as Hircine?” Vilkas asked. If they had additional powers, it would prove useful to the Companions.

Archer shrugged. “I mean, I’m not sure how other werewolves are, but my sister and I can change at will if we wish. You saw it while we were in battle, right?” Vilkas and Farkas nodded. “Other than that, I don’t know. I suppose I could ask him if I ever decide to dignify him with my attention, which I won’t because he’s a sorry bastard.”

Telona put a gentle hand on her brother’s arm. “Tal. He helped us.”

“While I appreciate he helped find you, I would have found you, regardless. You are my sister. His help comes too late. He abandoned our mother,” he spat as he cut away the pelts from the rabbits.

She let her brother rage about Hircine. She didn’t blame him, but their father helped her, giving her armor, and listened to her pain. It was hard to hate him. He only learned about his children recently. While she was more forgiving, it was going to take more for Talas to do so. 

“Anyway, when our father found me, he blessed me with a power. I can summon wolves into battle if I need them,” she said.

“Neat trick,” Archer said blandly with a hint of jealousy. Perhaps Hircine would bless him the same way if he dared talk to the Prince ever, which he wouldn’t.

“Wolves?” Farkas asked. “That sounds like a useful ability next to the changing of beasts at will. My brother and I… we struggled.”

“Fark… don’t,” Vilkas said, resting a hand on Farkas’ arm, stopping his brother from telling of their struggles. It wasn’t anyone’s business.

“No. I think we should tell them. They are like us,” Farkas insisted. Since Vilkas didn’t push, he continued. “We struggled with our beastblood. It’s a long story, but we refuse to change into beasts. But the more we resist, the harder it is to fight. I am having an easier time of it than Vilkas is.”

This was the first that Archer had heard of this from them. When he stared at Vilkas, he could tell it was a private matter. The Companion clenched his jaw, hands fisted as his brother told them their story, but he didn’t stop Farkas. “Why do you fight it? There’s nothing wrong with being werewolves.”

“We were cursed. It isn’t as natural to us as it is to you. Our previous Harbinger was trying to find a way to cure us before he was… killed. Now that he’s dead, I’m not sure how to do that. His notes were incomplete. Hircine promised us he would cure us if we saved you and your sister,” Vilkas admitted. “It doesn’t matter. We will be cured soon if Hircine keeps his end of the bargain.”

Archer didn’t argue there were benefits to having the beastblood. It was Vilkas and Farkas’ choice. 

Once they finished skinning the rabbits, they placed them on the fire to cook. 

Archer looked over at his sister, who was too quiet. Usually, the twins talked a lot. He didn’t like it. “Tel. What happened to you?” he asked.

She eyed her brother then at the other twins, all staring at her, expecting answers. If she told Talas the entire story, she knew he would go into a rage and abandon the camp to find Morric and kill him. He was overly protective of her. Part of her wanted Morric to die. The other part was that constant tugging to go back to him. It took a lot of will to push it down. 

“It doesn’t matter. There was some torture, but I’m fine. I dealt with it and escaped. I just want to move on now,” she said, hoping that it would put the issue to rest, but knowing her brother, she knew he wouldn’t back down easily.

“Just some torture? Are you fucking kidding me, Tel? There’s no such thing as ‘some torture.’ There is or there isn’t! I’m going to fucking slaughter those assholes who dared touch you!” he yelled, standing up, hands fisted. He paced, debating what to do about this additional information.

“And we will,” Vilkas agreed but sensed Archer was ready to storm off to hunt those that hurt his sister. He understood all too well. If it were Farkas, he would kill everyone who hurt him, but they had to plan with a clear head. “We need a plan. We can just go rushing off. That’s a good way to get killed. Do you really want to die after saving your sister? Sit down. Don’t let the rage control you.” He should probably take his own advice. The beastblood controlled him too much, and it made him constantly irritable. The creature was perpetually snapping in his mind to get out and be free to slaughter. When Secunda and Masser were out and full, it took every ounce of control to keep the creature at bay. If he let it loose and hunted, he didn’t know how many innocents would get hurt.

“My brother is right. We need to have a plan. Don’t worry. We will kill them all if we have to. The Silver Hand will never, ever give up trying to hunt us down into extinction,” Farkas said.

“It’s not just the Silver Hand,” Telona whispered when things calmed down and Archer sat fuming by the fire.

“Who else?” Vilkas asked, remembering the other people wearing strange robes.

“They call themselves the Vigilants of Stendarr. Their goal is to destroy all Daedric artifacts… including us, apparently. Daedric children,” she explained, looking at her concerned twin. “They are stronger than the Silver Hand, and there won’t be much to stop them. I’m not sure how they found out about Talas and me. Apparently, there are other children out there. Not just us.” Telona almost mentioned Morric, but something held her back. She held back because she loved him in her perverse way. He made her like that. She wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, even her brother.

“You’re holding something back,” Archer said. “Stop lying!”

“Fuck you! I’m not lying. I just don’t want to go into the details of my torture and relive everything if it’s all the same to you!” she yelled back, which wasn’t a lie, so she hoped it would be enough to make Talas back off. “It doesn’t matter. We will kill them eventually no matter what happened.” Telona couldn’t help it. The outburst left her emotionally drained as she let the tears spill. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Tel,” her brother said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Shit, he didn’t mean to yell at her. He was just furious that anyone dared hurt her.

Farkas watched the young Bosmer woman. Archer was right. She was holding something back. If they were similar twins as he and Vilkas were, they didn’t lie often, so it was hard to pull it off well. Telona wasn’t a good liar. He didn’t know what she was lying about exactly, but it was something that pained her. Maybe she was right to hold it back from her brother, but maybe it was something the Companions should worry about. When Farkas turned to eye his brother, Vilkas was staring at him. They internally shared the same thoughts. Perhaps Telona was right, and it didn’t matter in the end. Those that hurt her were going to die, regardless.

It was getting dark by the time they could see the city of Whiterun in the distance. The aurora was gleaming in the sky like massive green-blue ribbons. The city was twinkling with the lighting of braziers. Everything else was being cast in darkness.

“Is that where we are headed?” Telona asked.

“Yep, that is Whiterun and our home is Jorrvaskr. It’s the oldest building in Whiterun. I hope you’ll like it there,” Farkas said.

When she turned her head up at the Companion, she could see his smile was warm, his eyes gleamed in kindness. It was hard not to return his smile. 

“What do the Companions do exactly?”

“Well, we are a warrior’s guild and do jobs for those in need. We used to be something more, but our numbers have dwindled over the years. We try to keep up the glory and honor, but we have to live too, so we hire our services for gold.”

“How long have you and your brother been Companions?” she asked.

“Since we were whelps. We were the youngest to live in Jorrvaskr. Our father brought…”

“He wasn’t our damned father!” Vilkas spat. 

Farkas ignored him. It was an endless argument that never got settled.

“Whatever. We were brought there, but Jergen… our _father_ left to go fight the Great War and died. Kodlak, our previous Harbinger, pretty much raised us. He died several months ago and now Vilkas is the new Harbinger.”

Telona eyed Vilkas riding his horse with Talas behind him. Her brow raised, just now recognizing that her brother had an interest in the other Companion, already knowing his preference in men. She wondered if Vilkas was the same or recognized what Talas was feeling. 

“Much to my regret,” Vilkas huffed. “It’s nothing but paperwork and babysitting. Who knew how Kodlak handled it.”

“How did Kodlak die?” Telona asked Vilkas. His brow furrowed. There was visible pain in those silver eyes. Then she looked up at Farkas. He too shared the same look.

“The Silver Hand. They dared attack Jorrvaskr. We thought we finished them off, but apparently not. They have grown quickly in strength thanks to this new group…”

“Vigilants of Stendarr,” she finished for him.

“Aye. Sounds like a bunch of zealots to me,” Vilkas said.

“You have no idea,” she sighed. “Apparently, there are other Daedric children out there like us. Talas and I aren’t the only ones. This concerns them and they want to kill us all.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t they?” Archer asked. “I mean, I heard orders not to kill me and they kept you alive. So if they want us dead, why didn’t they kill us then?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t share that information with me,” she said.

“Farkas and I met one of these children about a year ago,” Vilkas said. “She was the daughter of Sanguine. We didn’t know it at the time until Hircine came to us, telling us she was off-limits to us.”

“Off-limits?” Archer asked, curious.

“Aye… we had to grow up fast after Kodlak died. But before, we liked to… have a bit of fun. She was beautiful, with red hair, curvy…” Vilkas sighed.

“I see. Ah, too bad then. I thought you might have a penchant for handsome Bosmer archers,” he teased, but Archer felt the sting of jealousy surge through him then it turned to disappointment. He was attracted to Vilkas, but it was stupid to assume the Companion preferred men. Of course, he liked women. He looked over at his sister riding with Farkas. The emotion on her face was filled with pity. Yes, she figured it out. It didn’t surprise him, but he didn’t want her pity, so he turned away.

Vilkas scoffed, “Is that so?” Archer wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t tell if the Bosmer was just teasing him or meant it. The elf was always making jokes at his expense.

After returning the horses at the stables, they made their way through town and back home to Jorrvaskr. Archer led the group with his brisk pace and opened the doors to the ancient mead hall. “Honey, we’re home!” he called out.

All the other Companions were sitting around the fire at the table eating dinner. Some smiled, some ignored them, but Ria waved to Archer a little too enthusiastically. 

“Hi, Archer! You can sit next to me. You’re just in time for dinner.”

Archer bowed to Ria, grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “It is lovely to see you again, my dear.”

“Is this your sister, Archer?” Aela asked, eying the Bosmer woman.

Telona waved to everyone. “Yes, I’m Telona. I’m the better twin.”

“Pft. Here we go, showing off again. I am by far the better archer and the oldest, thus _I_ am the better twin.”

While everyone else laughed, Njada just scoffed. “Please,” she mumbled, not meaning for anyone to hear, but Archer’s ears were keen.

“You know, Njada. If you scowled less, you could be quite lovely,” he said, giving her his best smile.

“Misogynistic pig,” she spat, while the room grew quiet. Njada was known for her temper and not trusting people. “Why the fuck do women have to smile to be pretty?”

“Oh, not just women. I tell that broody devil of a man over there the same thing,” he explained, winking at Vilkas who offered him his biggest scowl yet, which only made Archer laugh. “Scowls don’t look good on anyone. I lie. Only Vilkas is good at wearing them. But I enjoy a big smile any day.”

“What the fuck ever. We will see how big your smile is when I kick your ass in the training yard tomorrow,” she said as Vilkas scoffed, and got up to head downstairs.

“I’m sorry—” Ria started.

“Don’t apologize for her. She’s a grown woman,” Archer said, appreciating Ria’s kindness. She was a sweet and lovely woman. But he knew she had to be tough too, to be able to join the Companions. “I’m sure she’s hiding away pain,” he said in all seriousness. “We all have our walls.”

“Oh? What’s your wall, Archer?” Athis asked. 

“My humor and charm, of course. I thought it was obvious,” he laughed, spreading his hands. “Though I suppose there’s no point in me having walls if you can see right through them.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Torvar yelled out, holding up his mug of mead.

“You’ll drink to anything,” mumbled Athis.

Torvar grumbled but said nothing as he finished off his mead.

Aela picked at her chicken, pulling a piece off the bone and shoving it in her mouth with fingers as she eyed the newcomer. “Telona, right? Tell me. What are your skills?”

“Being a pain in the ass,” Archer quipped.

Telona laughed and stuck her tongue out at her brother. “Ignore him. I am good with the bow, not as good as Archer, but I prefer daggers. I’m also better at stealth than my brother.”

“Only because you cheat!”

“Are you two always bickering like this?” Athis asked.

The Bosmer twins laughed. “No,” they said in unison.

“We aren’t bickering. We just tease each other for fun and are quite close,” Telona said.

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you train with us, Telona. It will be nice to have another woman around with some skills. There’s too much testosterone floating around here. If I see how good you are, perhaps you would be willing to train the others in hand to hand with daggers,” Aela said.

“I would be happy to.”

Archer stood up and stretched. “Come on, sis. Let me show you where you’re going to sleep.”

Telona followed her brother downstairs. Directly across from the door was a large room with several beds.

“We all sleep in here. Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela are in the Circle so they get their own rooms,” he said, pointing at a bed. “You can sleep there. You’re right next to me.”

After showing Telona around, Archer got settled in bed with a book while his sister bathed, cleaning off her ordeal. When she came into the room, she looked so much better. All the grime was washed away and her hair was long, wavy, and free of debris.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out to her.

His sister crawled into bed with him as he held her close. “As my twin sister, you are never allowed to scare me like that again. Is that understood?”

“I will do my best, brother.”

“Good. I missed you, and I love you. Now go get some sleep.”

Later that night, Archer woke up to the sounds of light breathing and some snoring. All the whelps were sleeping other than him. But something else woke him. As his hearing and eyes came into focus, he heard it again. A moaning sound coming from his sister. It sounded like she was in pain. She was tossing and turning in bed.

“No, please…” she mumbled. “Don’t…”

Archer got out of bed and crawled into hers. He pulled her close to him until she settled down into a sigh. Telona never woke up, but whatever was bothering her in her sleep must have left her. Soon, he fell back asleep to his sister’s light and steady breathing.

“Sir! Morric! She’s escaped and killed several of us! We need to get her before we can no longer find her!” said one of the Silver Hand out of breath as she rushed into his room without knocking. As much as Morric wanted to punish her for the intrusion, he hardly faulted her for her panic.

“You will do nothing,” he ordered.

“Sir? But—”

“You will do as you’re told!” he boomed. “Pull your people back. I will handle this.”

The woman was going to argue again, but the look on Morric’s face told her she should do what she was ordered. “Very well, _sir_.” She left his room and closed the door behind her.

Morric knew the moment the elf left his bed that morning. He sensed movement, but feigned sleep to see what she did. She was silent as the night, but he knew she left and he let her. He didn’t care how many she killed in her escape, as long as she did. His plan was coming to fruition. The elf escaped. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t his. She would do anything for him. If he had ordered her to stay, she would have with no questions asked. Instead, he pretended to sleep so she would leave. 

He would miss fucking her though. She was warm and tight. But she was just a tool. Perhaps when this was over, he wouldn’t kill her. She could be his. With her powers, she could hunt down his enemies with precision. He could play with her until he tired of her. She was too beautiful to throw away just yet.

But her twin brother was another story. He too escaped before he could change him. Morric was busy with Telona, but when he was finished with his work, he was supposed to head to Whiterun Hold hand train Talas, but he managed to get away. No matter. It was nothing but a tedious problem. He would deal with the male Bosmer later.

Phase one was complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcomed and appreciated.
> 
> Next: Telona's initiation


	8. Initiates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men sparing with no shirts? Yes, please. Farkas vies for Telona's attention must to Athis' and Torvar's dismay as she struggles to find normalcy. Farkas is assigned to Telona for her initiation in Shriekwind Bastion.

Summer in Skyrim was still cool enough to not sweat normally, but the day was unusually hot. The men shucked their breastplates, leather, and tunics to spar and train bare-chested. It was only practice, so they didn’t worry about injuries. 

“You men are assholes,” Njada spat, wiping sweat off her brow and pushing back her damp hair as she circled and sparred Athis. 

“What’s the problem now? You’re always complaining,” Athis replied.

“The women have to keep their tops on while you guys strut around like peacocks. It’s fucking hot out here!” 

“I’m a man who believes in equality. Take it off, Njada. Let’s see what’s under that armor,” Torvar said as Athis smirked.

“Fucking assholes. Wanting to see my tits under my armor isn’t equality. Gods, you’re a pig,” she hissed as she lunged at Athis with her sword. When he blocked her, she threw a surprise punch in his face.

“Was that really necessary?” the Dunmer asked, rubbing his jaw.

“You should have been ready.”

Archer had already proven how good he was with the bow, but he was lacking in one-handed, two-handed weapons. He never had a need for it just as a hunter, but if he was going to be a part of the Companions, he should be familiar with all weapons. And Vilkas thought he was strong enough for the greatsword. 

He stood next to Vilkas as they practiced their stances, thrusting and swinging their swords. “I don’t like this. It’s too heavy and awkward.”

“You’re strong enough for it,” Vilkas said.

“I enjoy thrusting as much as the next guy, but I prefer the dance and foreplay instead of just rutting around hoping I make my mark,” he quipped.

“Focus, Archer,” Vilkas ordered, trying not to roll his eyes at the innuendo, yet somehow the elf’s words left him heated.

That was going to be a problem. Archer was desperately trying to focus and using his humor as a distraction. With Vilkas’ armor off and bare-chested, he was lucky he wasn’t salivating all over the man. It was taking everything in his power not to get hard. Vilkas was muscular, but it was a lean muscle with a spattering of dark, curly chest hair. Just the way Archer liked it, wanting to comb his fingers through it to see how— _focus like the man said, Archer_. Farkas, on the other hand, was a brute. He too was attractive, but Archer had his sights on the Harbinger. There was just something about the man that made him sexy as fuck, and it was too much fun to flirt and tease with him.

“I’d rather be doing something else,” Archer mumbled, unable to help himself.

“Talas! Are you pouting again? You’re such a baby. I apologize on behalf of my brother. He is quite the child when he doesn’t get his way,” Telona said, stifling a giggle at her brother’s glare.

“Because my way is the best way,” he retorted and went back to his training.

While Vilkas and Archer were working on the greatsword, Farkas took over Telona’s training with one-handed weapons and a shield. While Archer was distracted with Vilkas, it was Farkas who was distracted with Telona. Her white-blond hair was piled up high on her head to keep it out of her face, but lose tendrils fell and plastered to her sweaty skin. The flush from working out added a lovely color to her smooth skin. It was hard to keep his eyes off of her.

“Not to sound like my childish brother, but do I really need a shield?” she asked.

“Huh?”

Telona waved her hand in front of Farkas’ face to get his attention. “Shield… do I need one?”

Farkas snapped out of it and kept his eyes focused on hers. “Right, sorry. Well, it will protect you. It’s especially handy if the enemy surrounds you. You can also use it as a weapon by bashing your opponent, especially in the face.”

“I understand that, but perhaps I can use two swords or two axes. I am quite familiar with wielding two daggers. There wouldn’t be much difference in wielding two swords or axes.”

“The difference is the weight. You might be fast with daggers, but heavier weapons are going to slow you down.”

“A shield is going to slow me down. I won’t be able to roll and dodge as easily,” she argued.

“True, but we need to learn all weapons. If you’re in battle and say, lose a dagger, you can quickly grab another weapon or shield off the ground from a dead enemy or ally. You will know what to do and how to adjust in little time to defend yourself,” Farkas explained in all his infinite patience, unlike his brother. Everyone preferred training with Farkas over Vilkas because of his calm disposition, despite Vilkas being the better trainer.

“Very well. I promise not to pout like my dear twin.”

“Remind me why I love you again?” Archer quipped to his sister.

“Because I’m the better twin and you worship the ground I walk on?”

Archer scoffed, but he let her win that round. He was just relieved she was doing so much better, but while she was joking with him as they normally did, he figured she was still struggling mentally. She couldn’t hide it from him. After a couple of days of looking withdrawn and her nightmares, he was getting worried about her. But today, she seemed much better. It was good to have some of her humor return.

“Are you and Archer always like this?” Ria asked as she practiced her sword on a dummy.

“Always. But I’m definitely the sexier one,” Archer replied.

Ria scoffed but looked at the Bosmer up and down. She had to agree. 

After they finished training with unfamiliar weapons, Telona took over training Torvar and Athis using daggers while Archer took over training Ria and Njada to use the bow. 

Usually, Farkas took his time heading up to the mead hall for dinner. Tilma always made enough food for everyone, so no one would go hungry. But it was different now. Telona was here. He wanted to make sure he got a seat next to her before anyone else, especially after hearing Athis and Torvar make bets to see who could get her attention first. _Fuck them. She’s going to be mine if I can help it._

The Bosmer twins weren’t sitting at the table yet when he got upstairs. Good. So Farkas saved her a seat. As soon as he saw her coming upstairs, he waved both of them over, not ready to show his hand yet to her. He held his breath at the sight of her. She was cleaned up, her shimmering ashen hair draped over her shoulder like a pulled back curtain from a window, wearing a cerulean blue tunic with leather breeches. The color was stunning on her. He chuckled to see her barefoot, as was her brother. 

Telona smiled when she saw Farkas wave them over. She gave him a genuine smile, but it still hurt. Already, she saw Farkas showed an interest in her more than just shield-siblings. He was so patient and kind to her. She liked him a lot, but she couldn’t help but think of Morric, missing him. Telona tried to remind herself he was a dangerous man and what he did to her was wrong, but he drew her to him like a moth to a flame. She hoped now that she was away from the Breton, she would be able to move on with her life along with thoughts and desires for him. 

When she sat next to Farkas, he poured her a mug of mead and handed her a plate of sliced bread. She looked over across the mead hall to see Athis and Torvar joining them, both giving Farkas the evil eye, but the big Nord didn’t seem to notice or he just ignored them. Telona wondered what that was all about.

“Hey, ice brain! Slide over the plate of chicken,” yelled Athis to Farkas.

Farkas ignored the barb and just slid the food over with little complaint. Telona looked at him, brows furrowed, wondering why he wasn’t standing up for himself. It wasn’t the first time she heard the others picking on him.

“Why do you let them talk to you like that?” she muttered, leaning towards him, so the others couldn’t hear.

Farkas gave her one of his kind smiles and shrugged. “I dunno. It doesn’t really bother me. We are all family and tease each other. They’re good people.”

“Talas and I tease each other too, but how they treat you is pushing the spectrum of bullying. I don’t like it. Why do they have to insult your intelligence?”

“Bonehead! Pass the mead!” someone else yelled.

“Why do you have to name-call?” Telona snapped at them. “Teasing is fine, but you are… just being cruel! Leave him alone!”

The rest of the Companions stared at Telona’s unexpected outburst, no one saying a word. Then Ria spoke up, “You’re right. They go a bit too far sometimes. Sorry, Farkas.” While Ria apologized to the group, she never said a cruel thing to him. The likelihood that things would change wasn’t high.

He couldn’t help the heat that crawled to his face. It wasn’t usual that someone stood up for him. Vilkas did sometimes, but he preferred Farkas stand up for himself instead. He was a grown man. Farkas was never bothered by it much. But seeing this gorgeous elf protect him had his stomach in flutters. If he wasn’t attracted to her before, he was then. 

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

“You should stand up for yourself,” she insisted.

“That’s what Vilkas says, but I just don’t care that much. I still appreciate it, though. I’m just upset now because you are.”

Telona’s silvery eyes flashed as she gave him a small, shy smile. She went from a raging saber-tooth cat to a sweet bunny. Farkas’ heart sputtered and dropped to his gut at the sight. _Would it be too soon to touch her?_ He didn’t touch her, but he draped an arm around the back of her chair just to feel the heat from her skin. When he looked across the table, he saw Athis and Torvar still giving him death stares. He winked at them, almost laughing as they scowled. Farkas was going to have to be careful around them because then they would try to snatch her away from him.

Vilkas was late for dinner. It wasn’t anything unusual, being tied up with paperwork from the day and having to get jobs ready for the whelps. When he reached the mead hall, he saw everyone was just drinking, finished with their meal. There were stories and laughter. Vilkas didn’t normally engage too much at dinner, not much of a talker, but he enjoyed listening. 

What he walked into was Archer telling a story of his youth with Ria sitting on his lap. The elf winked at him in greeting as he talked and Vilkas felt himself flush but pushed it way down. It wasn’t the wink that bothered him, but the fact that Ria was sitting on his lap. _Why is she on his lap? Why do I have this surge of jealousy?_ Ria was attracted to the elf. That much was clear. But did Archer like her too? Vilkas was under the impression the elf preferred men, but that was just an assumption based on all his teases. Perhaps he was mistaken. All he could do was sit there and steam while listening to Archer’s story.

“So, I missed the shot—”

“Come on, Archer. I thought you said you were the best,” yelled out Athis.

“I am the best, thank you very much. But I was only ten,” he said as Njada scoffed. “Anyway! The damned boar decided it wasn’t going to take it and chased after me. I scaled the closest tree I could find and sat on top of a branch as the creature head-butted the trunk. It’s a wonder it wasn’t brain damaged. Hmm, perhaps it was.”

“How long were you stuck in that tree, Archer?” Ria asked.

“Well, my dear. Far too long. The damned thing was persistent. Oh, I seriously pissed it off.”

“Good thing, your sister came to the rescue,” Telona spoke up.

Archer waved her away and scoffed. “Please, I would have gotten down, eventually.”

Telona cocked a smile. “You were trembling like a leaf, Talas. Mother sent me to look for you and there you were, tears rolling down your face.”

“Pft. I don’t cry. What nonsense you speak!”

“It’s okay to cry, Archer,” Ria said, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest, but I would like to keep my balls, thank you very much.”

“Balls my ass. Why do you men insist balls are what defines manliness? You do realize that as soon as I kick them, you’re on the ground writhing in pain and vomiting on the floor, right?” Njada spat, a smirk on her face if one could call it that. It looked more angry than pleasant.

“It’s true. Women can pump out pumpkin-sized babies out of a tiny hole. I would say that’s a bit tougher than balls,” Aela laughed.

“Fine, fine… uteruses and ovaries are tougher. I concede your point. I know when I’ve been outmatched,” Archer said, chuckling.

“Damn straight,” Njada mumbled.

Vilkas couldn’t help but smile at the story and banter. He loved his little family, even if he was regretfully in charge of it. He also enjoyed its two newest members. Archer and Telona would be nothing but an asset, he knew. Plus, they were pleasant and outgoing, especially Archer.

When everyone stood up to go downstairs and head to bed, Vilkas stopped his brother, Telona, and Archer. “Farkas, we need to do Telona and Archer’s initiation tomorrow. We just got a couple of jobs and I think they would be perfect for them to test their mettle.”

“Sounds good. Where to, and who do you want me to take?” Farkas asked.

“Why don’t you take Telona with you to North Shriekwind Bastion. There have been reports of vampires in the area. It’s located in Falkreath Hold.”

“I know where it is,” Telona said. “Talas and I grew up around Falkreath. We are very familiar with the area.”

Farkas smiled, his heart hammered at the idea of having alone time getting to know Telona. This job would be fun. Not the vampire part, but going on an adventure with her part. He knew she would do well.

“I will take Talas with me. There is a massive bandit hold that cropped up north of Whiterun,” Vilkas informed them.

“I thought you were Harbinger. Should you be staying here shuffling papers and pretending to be an old man?” Archer asked with a smirk and winged brow. “Not that I’m complaining about riding you… with you again.”

Vilkas pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t irritated, but he was trying not to smile at Archer’s teases. It was a struggle to maintain his seriousness around the elf. “I am not the old man. Kodlak was sick and old. His adventuring days were over before he died. I’m not about to sit around bored out of my skull.”

“So you _do_ like me riding behind you?”

“Seriously, Archer. You’re going to kill me one day,” Vilkas sighed.

At least Archer knew when to quit as they made their way down to their rooms to pack, then sleep. It was going to be an early morning.

_Falkreath and Shriekwind Bastion_

The morning was bright with not a cloud in the sky, promising a beautiful and warm day as Farkas and Telona made their way west towards the ruins of Shriekwind Bastion. She rode in front of him in the saddle as the horse cantered. Farkas drew his face close to her hair, inhaling her scent. Perhaps it was a little creepy, but he couldn’t help it. This woman drew him in like no other. The day they found her, she had him enthralled.

“You know, while I don’t mind you riding with me, maybe we should get you and your brother trained on horses,” Farkas said.

“Perhaps you’re right. Mother never taught us to ride. Despite that, our mare is a bit too old. We always did all our hunting on foot. It may be slower than a horse, but it is quieter. We can also climb trees, hide in them where our prey can’t catch our scent. Horses give away our location, not just from their hooves on the ground, but their scent is strong,” Telona explained.

“Well, we are doing a different sort of hunting. Horses are great to get you to where you need to go.”

“True. We will learn.”

“Your mother must be something else to teach you and your brother so much,” he said, wanting to keep their conversation going and learn all there was to know about the elf.

“Yes, she’s amazing. We began training as soon as we were able to lift a bow or dagger. She is an amazing huntress. She is also a wonderful mother.”

“You’re lucky. So, what’s the story with Hircine? How did he manage to have twin children? I must say, I didn’t know the Daedra could even have mortal children.”

Telona was still struggling with that. She and Talas had known about Hircine since they were teens, but still, it was strange when she finally met him. He seemed kind enough, gifting her armor and a special power. He even let her cry on his shoulder. That was unexpected, to say the least. Perhaps he was on his way to redeeming himself in her eyes. Talas was going to take more work at forgiveness. He was good and kind, but he was stubborn. When he got stuck on something, he could be unyielding like a tree trunk.

“By stalking her,” she said, chuckling, though it really wasn’t that funny. “According to mother, she hunted his white stag for days, almost non-stop. When she finally killed it, he revealed himself. Apparently, she impressed him, then he took her. Not unwillingly, she said. But he abandoned her after.” 

“Now he’s back in your lives,” Farkas concluded.

“It would seem so.”

“You’re an interesting woman, Telona.”

Farkas and Telona reached the ruins by nightfall, but it was too late to delve in and clean it out of vampires, so Farkas set up camp while Telona hunted for their dinner.

“We have a delicious meal in store for us tonight,” she announced when she returned to camp, tossing a large bird by the fire.

“Nice! Pheasant. The bird for the rich.”

When she sat down and began plucking the feathers from the bird, Farkas made a spit to cook it on. “So, what’s up with the vampires? I have lived a long time near these woods and never came across a vampire,” she said as she stripped the bird bald, then severed its head with her sharp dagger.

“Yeah, they’ve been cropping up a lot recently. I’m not sure where they’re coming from. Only last month, Athis and I had to clear out a nest of them in a cave not too far from here. But they’re a menace. When they take the blood of innocents, it turns them. Then a new vampire emerges. They’re like a virus,” he said, watching her busy with their meal.

Once Telona finished gutting the bird, she handed it to Farkas to cook, and she left to clean her hands in the lake nearby.

Farkas wanted to ask her about her time with the Silver Hand and Vigilants, but he was nervous. He didn’t want to stir up negative thoughts in her, but Vilkas asked him to prod her out of information while they were alone. She had yet to discuss the situation. If the Silver Hand were rising again and with the help of this new cult or whatever they were, the Companions needed to be ready. They lost two good men to the Silver Hand and weren’t about to be caught with their breeches down again.

“Hey, so do you think you’re ready to talk about what happened to you?” Farkas asked as gently as he could.

Telona looked up, eyes full of wariness and distrust. _Shit._ That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted her to trust him. Not just because he needed information, but because he liked her. And damn, could she fight. She was fast and moved like a feline.

“No,” she spat, then shut down.

“I understand how hard it must be for you—”

“You will _never_ understand!” She sighed and rubbed her face in her hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. You’ve been nothing but nice, but I… I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Telona. I _do_ understand. My brother and I… we were kidnapped and tortured as children. Our father saved us. I don’t remember it as clearly as you remember yours, but I do understand. There’s this residual feeling of fear. Sometimes there are nightmares. It never really goes away. I get it,” he said.

She looked up at him, no longer angry. Her eyes softened at his story. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Farkas gave her a smile, glad she was relaxing. It wasn’t hard to tell his story because it happened so long ago, but he wanted to let her know he related to her problem and that she was probably afraid. “How could you? We just met not that long ago. But I am not asking you about what happened to hurt you, Telona. We need to know so we can prepare. Vilkas is worried that they will find out where you and your brother are, and that puts us all at risk. Especially now with this new cult. It makes the Silver Hand twice as dangerous. We need to be ready. You and Archer are family now, and family protects each other.”

“I’m sorry, but… I’m not ready.”

Farkas nodded. “It’s fine, Tel. You don’t mind if I call you that?” Farkas asked, smiling when she shook her head. “Maybe we should scope out the area, that fort, and see what we are really up against. We probably want to take them out before they grow in strength. Fortunately, at the other fort where they held your brother, we wiped most of them out. The rest fled.”

She tried to hide her worry, staring into the fire, hoping Farkas couldn’t see her strain. What would she do if she came face to face with Morric again with her new family? Would she be willing to kill him? What if one of the others killed him? How would she react? Telona shuddered at the thought. No, she had to do what she must, no matter her feelings for him.

“My brother likes Vilkas,” she blurted, wanting to change the subject. She watched Farkas to see his reaction, but he didn’t look too surprised.

“I was wondering if he did. Archer likes to flirt, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “But he nearly torments my brother. I don’t know if Vilkas notices or not, or if so, how he feels about it.”

“Does Vilkas prefer women?” Telona wanted to see how Vilkas felt so she could relay the information to Talas. She could tell her brother was smitten. He tended to go a bit overboard with the teasing when he likes someone.

“He does, but he’s been with men a couple of times,” he shrugged.

Good, maybe there was hope for her brother then. It was hard for him to find someone. Either the men hid what they were or they preferred women. Finding a man who was open and interested wasn’t a straightforward thing for Talas.

When Telona and Farkas entered through the iron doors, she raised a hand, halting him. Farkas had her lead since this was also part of her initiation into the Companions. He watched her ears twitch as she took in the sounds of the ancient ruins. Thanks to his beast blood, he could probably hear as well as she, with a strong sense of smell. There were two vampires nearby, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. This was her job, and he was just her backup.

He nodded when she held up two fingers, showing she picked up what he did.

Telona was barely a whisper as she walked closer to where the two vampires were standing guard. Archer praised his sister and how silent she was. Instead of daggers, she had her bow ready. The last thing they wanted was to fight vampires up close. The key was to kill them in silence and from a distance. Not only were their bites lethal, but they had spells that could change a person to a vampire too. He and Telona, as werewolves, didn’t have to worry about turning, but that didn’t mean the bites or spells wouldn’t make them violently sick.

Farkas let her do the dirty work, watching her nock an arrow into her bow and let it fly. The arrow landed directly between the eyes of the first vampire. Before he even breathed his next breath, she was loaded, and another arrow killed the second creature.

“Nice,” he whispered.

They breezed through the next room and came into the center of the ruins. Looking up was a swirl of paths through various rooms, all guarded by armed skeletons. As they climbed and climbed, each chamber was filled with the boney creatures, which were easy to dispatch. 

After they killed a vampire thrall, they met little resistance until they reached an area with a gate. The only way to open it was with a lever, but as Telona looked around, she knew it was booby-trapped. There were holes coming out of the walls and ceiling. “Careful. This lever may open the gate, but we don’t know what will come out of those holes once we do,” she whispered.

Farkas just nodded and let her guide them and figure things out. She was amazing to watch and while he did little work; he enjoyed watching her move in silence, killing the enemy, and figuring out traps. Telona was brilliant, and he was glad she was on their team. He looked forward to working with Archer too, judging by his ease with the bow. Farkas saw him fire off three arrows at once, all making their mark on the target. He was pretty sure his jaw dropped watching Telona’s twin.

Telona pulled the lever and sure enough, the room before the gate beyond was engulfed in flames. Fire shot out of every hole, feeling the heat on her face, making it flush. “I was hoping it would turn off eventually as other traps do, but it doesn’t look like it. We are going to have to crawl around the flames and pray we don’t get burned. Let me go first and see if there is another lever ahead to turn it off. It’s going to be hard for you to maneuver in that thick armor.”

“Fine, I’ll wait here. Be careful.”

Farkas watched the elf slither like a snake through the fire, careful not to singe herself. She was through with little effort. He just shook his head, wondering if that woman was going to stop surprising him. Sure enough, there was a pulley at the end that stopped the flames. The gate was open, but at the top of the stairs was another door.

She crouched, and he followed suit, both of them with ears open to hear any signs of life beyond the door. 

“I hear someone moving around, though it’s faint,” she whispered.

He nodded, hearing the same thing.

Telona was out of arrows, so she drew her daggers and opened the door. Peeking around the corner, they saw a powerful vampire reading some book, distracted. Good. The elf stood and threw her dagger, nailing the creature in the throat. Surprisingly, it didn’t kill him.

“Fuck,” Farkas grunted, watching the vampire drag the dagger out of his throat, bleeding out black blood. When he dropped the dagger, he lobbed out spells right at them. 

Telona did a black flip just in time, the spell narrowly missing her. When she landed, she threw her other dagger, hitting the creature in the chest. She yanked two more daggers from her belt and rolled across the hard floor away from another spell. The elf stood and ran up the side of the wall and lunged herself in the air directly towards the vampire, her two daggers coming down on each of his shoulders. The vampire cried out in anger, grabbing her by the waist and flinging her body against the stones. She saw stars while her lungs gasped, seeking oxygen.

Farkas rushed the vampire, greatsword drawn, but his swing was blocked by the creature’s own sword. They clashed steel against steel. It amazed Farkas how the creature was still standing after Telona’s attacks, but he had to reel it in and focus on the job. She was injured, so it was left to him.

Before he could do his next swing, a gaping maw opened up in the vampire’s throat. His voice gurgling and drowning in his own blood. Farkas just stood there trying to comprehend what happened, but when the creature fell, there stood Telona, her arm covered in blood, gasping for breath. It was done.

“Are you okay?” he asked, trying to calm his worried heart at seeing her injured now that he had time to think.

“I’m fine. Just a little wind knocked out of me,” she replied and walked off to gather her fallen knives, cleaning them.

They cleared out the rest of the ruins, with only one draugr left, gathered some treasures, and headed back home to Jorrvaskr. The job was done and Telona excelled at it. She was going to be officially welcomed into the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated. 
> 
> Next: Archer's initiation


	9. Encroaching Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Archer's turn for his initiation into the Companions. Vilkas takes him on a hunt for some bandits who seemed to be growing too large and have become a menace. Little do they know that they are not bandits, but the Silver Hand, and they are making specialized weapons against the Companions. Hircine still keeps on hunting for his prey, namely, Anriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I worked in the [Serentity: Silent Moons Camp Overhaul](https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/30019) This is a great mod that turns this little bandit camp into something extremely difficult and challenging. It's huge and there are TONS of enemies. It kicked my ass several times. You should check it out.

_Whiterun Hold/Silent Moons Camp_

Life was good. They found Telona intact and relatively unharmed, the day was bright and warm, and he was riding behind the most delicious male on their way to a job to clear out some bandits. Even better, Archer got to work with and watch said delicious man daily. It took some restraint to keep from grinding up against Vilkas’ backside or running his fingers through those thick, dark locks, blowing in the breeze. 

Archer needed to do something about all those lustful thoughts. He eventually would need to approach the Companion and inform him about what he wanted. Either Vilkas shared the same thoughts or he wasn’t into men. He understood Vilkas had an interest in women, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy men either. He hoped the Nord was flexible like that. It wasn’t unheard of, anyway, but needed to find out. He didn’t like this pining from afar, but he didn’t want to scare off Vilkas either. He enjoyed being awkward with someone else even less. Then his mind drifted off to legs wrapped around each other and—

“How do you think your sister is holding up?” Vilkas asked, distracting Archer from his encroaching naughty thoughts. “We hardly know her, so only you can tell how her situation affected her. Torture can really damage a person mentally.”

“She’s either holding something back or she’s lying. We are very close and I can’t help but be stung she hasn’t talked to me about it. Telona must have her reasons. I can see pain in her eyes and she has nightmares almost every night. So I assume it was worse than she let on. But won’t force it out of her. Other than that, she seems to be holding up relatively well. She laughs, makes jokes. Perhaps I needn’t worry.”

“Hmm, perhaps,” Vilkas concurred. He didn’t explain it to Archer, but his sister concerned him. She seemed fine outwardly, but he understood what torture did to a person. It shaped and molded them into something grotesque deep inside. The pain can start as a scab and grow into a festering wound. If not treated, it slowly killed you on the inside until you’re no longer recognizable. He’d seen it happen. Vilkas and Farkas were both tortured as children. He remembered little being so young, but it was enough to turn a happy child into something cold. The nightmares lessened with time, but they never truly went away. It was with the help of Kodlak that kept him and his brother from dying on the inside. His love and patience kept them whole.

Vilkas pushed away thoughts of Kodlak. His death was still raw on his already tightly wound emotions. 

“You don’t sound convinced,” Archer said behind him, grasping his waist tighter. He hardly felt the elf’s arms through his armor, but he sensed the extra pressure. Vilkas had to keep thinking about other things to distract himself from the man holding onto him. 

“Aye, I have my doubts. Regardless, she needs to talk at least about the location and how many Silver Hand and Vigilants there are. We need to shut it down before they get stronger.”

The urge to rest his face against Vilkas’ back was strong. Archer shook the thoughts out of his head, staying focused on the conversation. “If we do attack, perhaps we should capture one of the Vigilants. See if we can’t get some information out of him like how many there are, bases, how organized.”

“Possibly. It sounds like a good plan until you’re on the other side of the torture. Do you think you can handle that, Archer? Can you handle beating someone, causing them pain while they are defenseless?”

Archer shifted in the saddled. Vilkas had a point, and the thought made him uncomfortable. “It depends. A lot depends on our desperation. Are our lives at risk and… if I found out exactly what they did to my sister, I may be unable to hold back. I’m just being honest here.”

“Aye. I would be the same with Farkas. Perhaps that is why she is not speaking about what happened.”

“Maybe.”

“I also worry about your sister for my brother’s sake,” Vilkas said.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s interested in her. So are Athis and Torvar, but Farkas is determined to get her attention, and it seems to have worked.”

“Your brother seems like a great guy. I like him. I wouldn’t be opposed to that if she wanted the same. But I understand what you’re saying. If she’s messed up, it could pose a problem to a future relationship,” Archer agreed.

“Speaking of interest. Ria seems… smitten with you.” Vilkas did his best not to sound jealous, but he was too curious about how Archer felt about her. He hated watching her on his lap from the night before. Archer was a huge flirt, so perhaps that was all it was. It was possible he treated everyone like that. Regardless, he boiled inside, watching them together. It wasn’t like Vilkas to get jealous, especially over someone he’d only known a couple of weeks. Part of him thought Archer’s teases and flirts were for him only, so it stung that he did that with almost everyone.

“Ria? Nah, I doubt it. Regardless, women and I are like oil and water. I like them enough, but we don’t mix.”

“What does that mean?”

Archer smiled at Vilkas’ back, wondering if it was his way to get details on his availability. “Come on, Vilk. You can’t tell I enjoy the more masculine type? I thought I was pretty obvious.”

“Well, I… thought perhaps you enjoyed men, but I had my doubts. That’s why… Ria confused me,” Vilkas admitted, grateful the elf wasn’t able to see his face, which he sensed was beet red by the scorching heat of embarrassment.

“Oh, I have to admit, she is quite adorable,” Archer said, seeing if he could get Vilkas to react.

Vilkas shifted in the saddle as if he was uncomfortable, then his back stiffened. Whether it was from a sore ass or Archer’s words, who knew? “Is she now?”

“I mean, she has pretty eyes and lovely dark hair. I guess if someone could… sway me…”

“Yeah? Mmm.” Vilkas’ words came out as irritated, but wasn’t able to help himself.

“I’m joking, of course. She’s a lovely girl, but I only have eyes for one person,” the elf chuckled, sensing the Nord’s frustration.

Vilkas breathed out a sigh of relief. He thought perhaps the elf was teasing him again, but he wasn’t sure. He still tried to figure out the elf’s personality, filled with uncertainty. After all, he enjoyed men and women. Why not Archer? The more jealous he grew, the more he wanted to make Archer his. Vilkas was feeling quite possessive, and he wasn’t sure where those feelings came from. It wasn’t like him. If he asked who Archer had his eyes on, he would set himself up for more teases from the elf. It would be an admission that hoped it was him. Then there was the other side of the coin. If he asked and Archer was honest, perhaps they could do something about it. Vilkas’ fear of rejection was greater, so he remained silent.

“Aren’t you going to ask me who?” Archer teased.

“No.” Vilkas winced. He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, giving himself away again. _Dammit. I need to do better and not show my hand so easily._ He could practically feel the elf smiling behind his back as he internally grumbled.

Oh, there was a little jealousy there in Vilkas’ voice. Archer could work with that. Jealousy meant there was an interest. Now all he needed to do was make Vilkas’ interest blossom. His stomach fluttered, excited about the prospect. The Companion was stoic and hard to read sometimes, but Archer sensed there was more to Vilkas that he didn’t show others. He had every intention of digging in deep to find out.

Vilkas slowed the horse and came to a stop. Archer jumped down. Then it was Vilkas’ turn. The Companion tied up the horse and pulled his helm on, then strapped his sword to his back. “We walk the rest of the way,” he said.

Archer nodded as he strapped on his bow and quiver. Then he slid several daggers in his belt. He wasn’t as good at Telona when it came to knives, but he wasn’t half bad either. 

“We received several reports of this growing bandit hold. Apparently, it’s large and they are well-fortified. We will have to be careful going in, which is why I brought you instead of your sister. I need your archery skills.”

“Aw, and here I thought you liked me riding behind you,” he winked.

“Do you ever stop?” Vilkas asked, flustered and blushing. There was definitely another reason he chose Archer that had nothing to do with his fighting skills, but he wasn’t about to admit that to the elf. So much for being a good Harbinger.

“Nope. You are way too much fun.”

“Ugh. Let’s be professional, okay?”

“I am the epitome of professionalism.”

“Right. Could have fooled me.” Vilkas would never admit to the elf he liked his teases and flirts, despite his blushing. He also understood Archer would be the consummate professional while in battle. He had no doubts.

Archer leaned into the Companion, his mouth entirely too close to his ear. “You realize as well as I do we will make a great team,” he said, then walked off towards the bandit hold.

Vilkas wasn’t sure what to say about that or what exactly Archer meant, so he scoffed instead. He figured his words had little to do with fighting bandits. He let a smirk slip, then chased after the elf.

The two men walked about a mile before ducking behind a large boulder. Ahead of them was the bandit hold. They both observed what they were up against.

“Ah, fuck. That isn’t a damned bandit hold. That is a godsdamn fortress,” Archer whispered.

“Reports said it was large, but I clearly underestimated it. Bandits are easy to dispatch, generally. They terror innocents, but rarely are they good enough to fight against those like me or you. These bandits are way more organized than I expected,” Vilkas admitted. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Good thing I brought lots of arrows. Some initiation, Vilk. I thought you wanted in my breeches, not dead.”

“Now’s not the time for jokes.”

“Who’s joking?” he retorted.

Vilkas did a double-take but didn’t dignify Archer with a response. “We need a plan.”

Inside the wooden spikes and walls was an ancient ruin. Ruins were perfect for holds as long as you cleaned out all the creepy things roaming the crypts. There was usually only one way in, and the insides were probably heavily fortified. That along with the wooden walls, ramparts, and platforms to shoot anything that came their way. It was going to be a tough job.

“We are going to have to take out the archers first. There is no way to rush in there without doing it. Here’s what I think we should do and then tell me your ideas. What I can do is take out as many archers as I can up high. There is only one way in and one way out of this place. Once the archers go down, the bandits will scurry like ants protecting their queen. They will flood out and search for us. The gate will act as a filter. You will be up close to take them out and I will use my arrows to pluck them off one by one. What do you think?”

“Aye. I like it. It won’t get them all. They are too organized, so there will be many who remain behind to protect and defend. But if we can take out as many without injury to ourselves, I say let’s do it,” Vilkas agreed.

Vilkas ran off towards the gate at a crouch and dodged between the few trees that dotted the area and large boulders. Once he was in position with his sword drawn, he gave a nod to let Archer showing he was ready.

The elf started as far back as his arrows would reach, then worked his way forward. That was the plan, anyway. Get rid of the toughest targets first. With two arrows nocked in his bow, he let them fly, watching them separate from each other, hitting two bandits close to each other. He wasn’t certain if they were dead, but they fell. That was good enough for now. He didn’t waste a breath before he fired arrow after arrow. As predicted, the bandits scrambled to seek their enemy. Several climbed the platforms and ramparts, which left Archer with easier targets, taking them out one by one. Many fled through the gate. He didn’t distract himself with Vilkas, taking out those high above so they didn’t kill the Companion. Archer was sure Vilkas was capable enough to handle himself on the ground. 

Vilkas was expecting a lot of bandits, but this was more than a lot. He was sweating in his armor and it dripped down into his eyes, the saltiness stinging them, but he blinked it away, not slowing down his thrusts and hacks. The bandits were growing more cautious as they fell one-by-one, many running off to tuck themselves away, hidden from danger, but ready to attack the intruders. He whistled to Archer for him to follow as he ran through the gate and hid behind a wooden wall, looking around the corner to scope out the remaining enemy.

He wished he could shuck off his armor. It was sweltering, but it was better to be hot than dead. Slowly, he inched his way into the hold, not waiting for Archer. The elf would be along shortly. Vilkas headed towards a tower off to his left, climbing the wooden platform that would take him to the top. He sensed there would be an ambush there waiting for him, but he would be ready. Inside, it was darker and his eyes had to adjust, but he kept moving up and up. There, waiting for him, were two bandits. A female who looked more afraid than angry, and a male who was smirking and swinging his sword around, showing off. 

“Prepare to die, Companion,” the male bandit grunted.

 _Companion? How did he know?_ Vilkas figured his armor was well known, but he didn’t think bandits had the brains. That concerned him, wondering if they weren’t bandits at all, but the Silver Hand.

“Silver Hand, I take it?” Vilkas asked, not expecting an answer.

“Prepare to die, wolf,” said the female, but there was a tremble in her voice. She was definitely scared. She confirmed his concerns. _Dammit._ If they were this close to the city, it was concerning indeed. They were getting closer and more organized. 

The male and female lunged at Vilkas, who blocked both of them. She was easy to dispatch as his sword followed through and lobbed her head cleanly off her narrow neck. The male took advantage of Vilkas’ distraction and came at him, but Vilkas was too fast, narrowly blocking the blow. Their swords clashed with a ring of metal. Vilkas shoved the man back and came at each other again. He was growing tired and his arms ached from all the fighting. The bandit had the advantage of not using up his energy in fighting until now. 

The male Silver Hand’s first mistake was to raise his sword over his head to come down on Vilkas. He rolled out of the way as the weapon came down and thrust his sword into the man’s back. The bastard stumbled, but it didn’t bring him down. Vilkas wasted no time in finishing him off before he recovered. He plunged the tip of his sword through the man’s back again and came out the other side through his heart, killing him instantly. When he dropped to the ground, Vilkas placed a foot on the man’s back and pulled out his sword.

Instead of following Vilkas on the ground, Archer took to the ramparts, using the height to his advantage. He heard fighting off to his left, but he was sure Vilkas was fine, taking off and killing the bandits who dared climb the platforms and towers. He didn’t want to let them gain the upper hand. The elf crouched behind a thick pillar for protection as he fired off several arrows, smiling as two of them plunged to the ground below, screaming. Not that he enjoyed killing, but bandits were a menace. They deserved nothing less.

Their numbers were dwindling as the chances of his and Vilkas’ survival grew. The problem was that area high up ahead of him. The ancient structure was built into the hillside and who knew how many of those assholes were lying in wait to pluck off Vilkas and him.

Once the outside was finally clear, he met Vilkas on the ground. The Companion was panting and covered in blood and sweat. He was tired, and Archer could hardly blame him. He did most of the heavy lifting since all this began. It impressed the elf at Vilkas’ prowess and stamina. He wondered if that reflected in bed. _Focus, elf_.

“Let’s take it slowly up the steps. They can easily pick us off if we’re not careful,” Vilkas tried to whisper through his heavy breathing. “These are Silver Hand. No wonder these bandits are so organized.”

“Seriously? Shit. And it’s too late,” Archer said, raising his chin towards the flight of stone steps. 

Archer reached back for an arrow and came up empty. _Fuck!_ He had no choice but to drop his bow and pull out a couple of daggers. In his distraction, he watched in shock as a powerful spell threw Vilkas back as electricity coursed through his body. Vilkas dropped his sword, screaming in pain. The elf looked up to see a mage using a chain lightning spell on the Companion. 

Anger took hold at seeing Vilkas writhe in pain, unable to move. He dropped to his knees, screaming in pain as the change took hold. He had no choice. A couple of daggers wouldn’t do anything before the mage killed Vilkas. If he were Telona, she would have done it with her eyes closed, but not Archer. 

He burst through his leather armor, shredding it as the fur and claws grew, doubling his size. It was always painful, but he was used to it and it didn’t last long. 

Vilkas hunched over, grasping his body with his hands as the pain in his body spread like fire. There was nothing like being burned on the inside out by a lightning spell. It was excruciating. Suddenly it stopped when he heard roaring, realizing Archer must have changed. He lifted his sweating head to see the werewolf slaughter the mage and the remaining Silver Hand with little effort. 

He tried to stand but fell back to his knees. The spell dissipated, but the pain didn’t. “Fuck!” he groaned and yanked his pack off, rummaging in it for a healing potion. He yanked the cork out with his teeth, spitting it out, and drank down the entire thing. The waves of healing spread through his body, easing his pain and speeding up his healing process. It was better, but still not great. He needed more, pulling out another bottle and drinking it. It was enough that he was able to calm his heart and stand again. 

When Vilkas looked up, the beast was panting, standing there watching him. The Companion raised his hands in defense. “Easy there. I’m a friend. You understand that right?” As a beast himself, he knew that the mind could go primal and lost cohesive thought. It’s what made the creatures so dangerous besides their claws and teeth. Vilkas could hear the howling in his head as his own beast demanded to be released, but he was better at silencing it. 

The creature’s howls and screams permeated the silence of the camp as Archer returned to human form. He laid there, curled up in himself, whimpering and shivering. Once the pain subsided, the elf stood up, still shaking, but he looked better. Vilkas understood how painful the change was. Another reason he hated it. 

Archer stood there naked and Vilkas had little control as his eyes drew between the man’s legs, but quickly looked away, blushing furiously. He heard the elf chuckle, clearly over his change and pain. 

“I know. It’s hard to look this good,” he quipped.

Vilkas scoffed, still flushing as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Archer wasn’t wrong. The man’s body was gorgeous, so was his… _Stop thinking about it!_

“Give me a minute and let me see if I can fit into any of these assholes’ armor and we can head inside. Ugh, their armor probably smells like sweat and piss, not that I have a choice. Unless, of course, you don’t mind me fighting naked.”

“Do you ever let up?” he asked at the elf’s back, staring at his ass, unafraid now that Archer was turned, but looked away when his cock stirred between his legs, griping at his traitorous body. He had to crush that down, and fast.

“I thought we’ve already established that I don’t and have no filter.” He was teasing the man, but fuck! Having Vilkas look at his body like that, even as short as it was, made it hard for him to control the potential erection he wanted to sport. _Down, boy!_ He also needed to control his anxiety at seeing Vilkas nearly killed by that fucking mage. Panic swept through him, forcing him to change into his beast. He had to do everything possible to save the Companion.

Archer found a dead bandit about the size of him and removed his armor. At least it didn’t smell like piss. When he finished getting dressed, he approached Vilkas, grabbed his shoulder, and turned the man around to face him. “I’m… shit. I’m glad you’re okay, Vilk. That asshole nearly killed you.”

Vilkas softened, realizing the elf was using humor again to mask his worry. It heartened him he cared that much. “I’m fine,” he confirmed. “Thank you. I may not have lived had you not been there.”

The Companion waited as he watched Archer pick up his bow and scrounge around for intact arrows, shoving them in his quiver. 

“Let’s go check up there in case any more of these bastards are lying in wait, then we can head inside the ruins,” Vilkas said.

Archer nodded as they made their way up the stone steps, weapons ready. Inside was unexpected, to say the least. It didn’t lead to anything spectacular at first glance. It was a rotund area that worked as a forge. There were weapons scattered about and a book lying on a table. He picked it up, reading the title. “Notes on the Lunar Forge,” he muttered, opening it and reading the pages. “Shit. Vilkas, look at this.”

Vilkas took the book from him and read the contents. His tired face paled. “Godsdammit! It looks like they are crafting weapons to destroy us. The weapons are to be made of silver, which is a werebeast’s bane, but it has an enchantment on it. It’s twice as deadly during the full moons. The full moons are when we change. This weapon would make it easier to kill us.”

“It’s a good thing we killed these assholes then.”

“Yes, but it is also deeply troubling. They are being funded. There’s no way they were able to afford to create something like this.”

“Our Vigilant friends?”

“Aye, possibly.”

Archer rushed around, grabbing all the weapons lying about, and tossed them into the still-smoldering fires of the forge, watching them meltdown. “At least they can’t come back and reclaim the weapons.”

“Good call. Burn the book while you’re at it. When we get back, we have to have a meeting and your sister needs to open up. I’m sorry, Archer, but we need all the information we can get and be ready. Instincts are telling me things are going to get worse before they get better.”

“I will talk to her,” he agreed.

“Thank you. Let’s go clean up inside the ruins.”

Inside wasn’t much. There were only a few more Silver Hand to dispatch. Once they were dead, they headed outside to find it was dark. Instead of heading back to Jorrvaskr, they made camp to rest. They would return home in the morning. Hopefully, Telona and Farkas would be back soon too and they could have that meeting.

The two men sat next to each other as they leaned against a large boulder next to the fire. Their shoulders were almost touching. Archer wanted to lean into the man but didn’t dare, still not quite sure about Vilkas. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for rejection after the day they had. 

“You’re not allowed to do that again,” the elf said, glaring into the fire.

“Do what exactly?”

“Nearly get yourself killed.”

“I didn’t do it exactly on purpose, Archer,” he said, smiling at the elf’s concern for his well-being. 

“Yeah, well, you need to pay more attention,” the elf huffed.

“Aye. Sorry, I worried you.”

Archer lifted his head to look at the Nord. His hair was still damp from sweating under his helm. When it was wet, it curled into delicious, dark locks. He wanted to run his fingers through it. Vilkas must have sensed a shift in Archer. They were both looking at each other. The only sound in the night was crickets chirping in the warm evening. 

Vilkas’ eyes darted to Archer’s mouth as he licked his bottom lip, then back into his silvery eyes, reflecting back the firelight that made them look like his eyes were flames themselves. He wondered if his eyes looked similar. He was about to lean into the elf as if his full lips were tugging at his control. They were begging to be kissed, but he turned away before he did something he would regret. No, he wouldn’t regret a chance to kiss Archer. There was just that fear he was reading things wrong between them. It was so much harder to seek a male lover over a woman. There was always more uncertainty involved.

Despite Vilkas pulling away, it didn’t disappoint Archer. In fact, it actually pleased him. The Nord’s eyes told him everything. There was definitely interest there, but he didn’t want to act on it. That’s fine if he was uncertain. It also meant that his efforts to have something more with him would be worthwhile. It made him less fearful of rejection and gave him something more to look forward to.

Anriel woke in the early morning. It was warm, so she had her shutters open, letting the breeze filter in, clearing out the stale air in her little house. She stretched in bed, got up, and put on a tunic and breeches, padding around the house barefoot. She would be happier, but she missed her children. The house was too quiet without their incessant banter. If she moved to Whiterun, she figured her twins would accept her, but they needed their space away from her mothering. It was time they grew up without her. But she was lonely. 

After breakfast, she figured she would do some hunting for pelts, then she would skin them and dry them. Once they were ready, she would travel to Falkreath to sell her pelts, antlers, and other ingredients for some gold. She was running out of supplies and needed a new bucket and some plates. Perhaps if she made enough, she could purchase a new blanket. Hers was old and threadbare.

She grabbed her bow and quiver after she dressed in her leather and headed out to hunt. Once she stepped out of her house, she stopped in her tracks, looking around at the landscape. _What in all of Nirn?_ Something magical happened. Wildflowers covered in butterflies of all types surrounded her little home. There were flowers of all colors, shapes, and sizes. It was more than she had ever seen, and it was beautiful. Their scent permeating the air in a variety of fragrances. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

“Do you like it?” asked the baritone voice.

“Hircine. Is this your doing?”

“It is. Don’t you like it?”

Anriel turned behind her to see the large man leaning against her house, arms folded with a small smile on his face. It wasn’t one of callousness or arrogance. It looked genuine as if he really was pleased to see her.

“It’s… beautiful,” she admitted but didn’t want to encourage him. “But why? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“You know why.”

“I will not have any more children with you,” she said, turned, and walked off into the woods to hunt. She gritted her teeth when she heard him catching up to her. 

“We don’t have to have any more. I just thought… you were lonely and wanted more,” he admitted.

“Honestly! You just assume someone is lonely so you are offering them children? Do you realize how strange that sounds?” she huffed and shook her head and kept walking.

“I can help with your loneliness,” he offered, then winced. _What am I doing? I’m obsessed with this creature!_ She kept rejecting him, making him want her more and more. She wasn’t wrong before. He was the hunter, and he was trying to capture his prey—her. But was that the truth? Was she just a challenge to him or did he really want her? He couldn’t say. Not until he finally captured her.

Anriel barked out a laugh, “I’m sure if I wanted you to. But having your attention is only temporary. We both know that.”

Hircine grabbed her arm to stop her running off and turned her to face him. He pressed her body against his, enjoying her warm skin and heartbeat thrumming in his chest. His face nuzzled the side of her neck as he inhaled her grassy goodness. Then his lips pressed against her throat. She swallowed away nerves, making him smile. “I need you,” he whispered.

Anriel held back her moan, almost giving in to the Prince, but she pushed him away. “No, you don’t. You don’t need anyone, Hircine, let alone a little mortal elf. Thanks for the flowers.”

She ran off deep into the woods. This time he let her go. He knew she would come around, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcomed and appreciated. <3


	10. More Questions Than Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer is relentless with teasing Vilkas because he's a coward to say anything outright. Telona gets interrogated by the Companions. She's hiding something, and Vilkas and Aela definitely see it. Vilkas struggles with leadership as he holds a meeting to let the rest of the Companions know about the growing threat. Farkas and Telona go on a date.

Vilkas tired of repeating in his head how much he hated being a leader. Well, the Harbinger wasn’t a leader per se, even so, he was in charge of all the grueling paperwork, assigning jobs, and having to be the wise one when others came to him for advice. _Wise. What a joke._ He was no Kodlak. He also missed going out on jobs. There were a few he could do, especially the more challenging ones, but mostly he spent his time at Jorrvaskr. That was until recently.

The Silent Moons camp was challenging. Despite almost dying, the battle exhilarated him. How many did Archer and he kill? Thirty? Forty Silver Hand? He admitted to himself that the elf and he made a great team. Not to mention how well it paid. 

Now that Archer and he returned to Jorrvaskr, along with Telona and Farkas, it was time for a meeting. First, he needed to sit down with Telona and figure out exactly what happened to her and what to expect. Then all the Companions needed to get together to figure out their next steps. They had to prepare for the worst. The Silver Hand and these Vigilants were highly organized. Something niggled in Vilkas’ mind that there would be another attack against the Companions. They couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. _And the Silver Hand call us monsters._

A touch of a hand on his neck trailing to his shoulder startled him, but he didn’t flinch. No one ever touched Vilkas like that, except for one person. Archer. He looked up from his table to see the mischievous elf smirking down at him. 

“What?” He sounded grumpy in his ears, but he didn’t want to show the elf he enjoyed his touch.

“Good morning to you too,” Archer chuckled.

“Sorry, my mind is preoccupied. Good morning, Archer.”

Archer placed a plate in front of Vilkas full of bread, cheeses, and eggs. “You missed breakfast.”

Just when Archer got on his nerves or confused him, he did little things like being thoughtful. He wasn’t quite sure he deserved it. “Oh… thanks. I guess I got sidetracked.”

The elf sat down, draping an arm over the back of a chair, and stretched out like he was some sort of feline. That damned elf always seemed at ease, no matter where he was or what he was doing. “When do you want to meet with Telona? I mean, after you eat, of course.”

“Do you want to grab her in about an hour? Let’s use the main table down here to meet, away from the others. I will gather Farkas and Aela.”

Archer nodded, “Sounds good. Just… go easy on her, okay?”

“I will do my best.”

An hour later, Farkas sat near Telona. Her eyes were large as she wrung her hands in her lap. It was such a stark contrast to their fight against the vampires or her banter with her brother. She was so full of confidence and skill. Telona stared at her lap, blond hair falling in her face. It was clear she didn’t want to talk. Farkas wished she didn’t have to, but he agreed with Vilkas. Preparation was vital for survival, and information was key to prepare. Telona had more inside knowledge than Archer did. 

Farkas reached over and sandwiched one of her hands between his two meaty ones. When she looked up with worried eyes, he gave her a reassuring smile, but she didn’t smile back. 

“Let’s get started,” Vilkas said when he sat down, dropping some parchment, ink, and a quill on the table. He dipped the quill in ink, eyeing Telona, then his brother, seeing he was holding her hand. She looked stressed. All the more reason we need to speak with her. It also proved that she was holding information back.

“It’s okay, Tel. We are all friends here. I love you. You realize that, right?” Archer said to her, seeing her fret. It was so unlike her. “We all just want to help, but we also need all the information we can get. These people are dangerous. I don’t want to see them getting to you again.”

Telona nodded and tried to give her brother a reassuring smile, but it only came off as a grimace. 

“What’s the first thing you remember after your capture?” Vilkas asked, readying his hand to scribble notes.

“I… I remember waking up in a cold cell that sat in the middle of a room. There was a man there who brought me food and water. I called him the ‘Bastard.’”

The room chuckled, though the situation was far from funny. “Go on,” Farkas prodded, still holding her hand.

Gods, she didn’t want to tell her story. It humiliated her while still having that lingering yearn to return to Morric. She hated the feeling. The initiation with Farkas did wonders for her, allowing her to get out and do what she did best. She also enjoyed getting to know him. He was so kind and patient with a permanent smile on his face that reminded her of Talas, except her brother’s smile was always more of a smirk, making him appear arrogant. Farkas’ smile was kind. One could tell he was a friend to everyone.

Telona planned to tell as much as possible, but she wasn’t about to explain to them what happened between her and Morric, on a personal level. She would rather die. “Not long after, a Breton man entered the room. A mage. His name was Morric. He’s a Vigilant of Stendarr. He was… handsome and looked kind. I realized it sounds strange, but despite his outward appearances, it didn’t put me at ease.” She squirmed in her chair as her hands grew clammy, but she couldn’t find it in herself to pull her hand away from Farkas. It gave her courage.

“Ah, one of those you _can trust me, but I will hurt you’_ types. Typical,” Archer said. “You’re doing great, Tel.”

“I refused to eat because after they drugged us, I wasn’t sure they would not do it again. I wanted to be lucid and ready to escape. But Morric grew impatient, insisting that I eat. He left not long after, but he informed Bastard that if I still refused to eat, to force-feed me. The Bastard did just that. He tied me up, crammed food in my mouth, then held my nose until I swallowed.” Telona shuddered at the memory, remembering how angry she was.

“Bastard is right,” Aela said, who was quiet thus far. 

Telona ignored the interruption, continuing with her story. “It wasn’t long after the Bastard pulled me out of my cell to take me somewhere. I tried to fight back, but he was fast. He was stronger than he looked. He tied my hands and marched me into this room. There wasn’t much in the room other than a table in the center. I tried to fight back again, but the Bastard pinned me to the table where Morric was waiting. They had me chained to it.”

The tears welled in her eyes but had a faraway look as she recalled her story, taking a shuddering breath before she continued. “It was horrible. He…”

“What did he do, Tel?” Archer asked. The menace in his voice rang out. His hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. 

She looked up at him to see his anger, knowing he didn’t direct it at her, but at the man who dared hurt his sister. Then she scanned everyone’s faces at the table. Vilkas was busy writing, her brother was steaming, Aela had an unreadable face as she listened and Farkas never stopped trying to reassure her, his eyes filled with infinite patience and understanding. Telona loved her protective brother, but what she needed right then, Farkas gave to her. There was something safe about him.

“He… hurt me. First was the lightning spell that spread through my body like fire. He would do it for seconds at a time, but it felt like an eternity. What made it strange was he… apologized for it,” she said, looking down at Farkas’ hands holding hers.

“What do you mean he apologized?” Aela asked, now sitting up with piqued interest. “Why would your torturer apologize? That makes no sense.”

“I don’t know! He just did! He would hurt me and every time he did, he would say how sorry he was. Then he would… ask for forgiveness, that it was necessary, but it pained him to do it. Then he would hurt me again!”

Aela looked over at Vilkas, who stopped writing, listening to Telona’s story. When his eyes reached hers, she was sure they shared the same questions. Something was off with her story. Aela didn’t believe the elf was lying, but why would this mage torture her then apologize for it? 

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Telona,” Vilkas said. “No one should go through that sort of pain. I also apologize we have to bring all this up and that you would rather move on. But we really need to figure out what we are up against.” She nodded, but he understood she would rather be anywhere else. The tears spilled down her eyes and he hated to put her through this, but it had to be done. Then he eyed Archer, who scrutinized him, making sure Vilkas didn’t hurt his sister further. Archer was in full-on protective mode. “So, while he was… hurting you, did he ask questions? Did he interrogate you for information?”

“No.”

“No?” Vilkas asked, shocked, then looked at Aela again. Everyone in the room looked incredulous other than Telona. “Why would he torture you if he didn’t want answers?”

“I don’t know! He just said Talas and I were dangerous. That anything coming from the Daedra had to be eradicated! He didn’t deem me worthy enough to provide more answers than that, okay?” she yelled, trying to shove Farkas’ hands away, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“Shh, it’s alright, Tel,” Farkas whispered, patting her hand. “No one is going to hurt you anymore.”

“But why did he just kill you then?” Aela asked, ever the tactful one.

Telona eyed the redheaded woman. She was angry now, and it was all directed at Aela. “How the fuck should I know? As I said, it wasn’t as if he thought me important enough to give me his deepest and darkest secrets! All I know is these assholes who captured Talas and me were the Silver Hand, and that Morric is part of the Vigilants of Stendarr! That these people hate us and anything Daedra related!”

If Aela was upset by the woman’s outburst, she didn’t show it. “They must want something if they kept you alive. There has to be some sort of plan to use you for something.” No one had an answer to that.

“How long, Tel? How long did they do this to you?” Archer asked.

She shrugged. “Days? Weeks? I lost track. The days just… blended.”

“Fuck me,” Archer spat, then looked over at Vilkas. “Are we done here?”

“Aye, soon, but first, Telona. Do you think you could locate where they held you on a map?” Vilkas asked.

“I’m not sure… maybe. I just ran when I left and didn’t look back.”

Vilkas nodded, making his notes. “Also, how many Silver Hand would you say there were while they held you prisoner?”

Telona shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea. Again, I just ran and didn’t explore the entire keep. I killed a few men, but that was it.”

“Very well. Thank you for your help. You may go,” Vilkas said.

When everyone stood, Farkas didn’t bother to hide his affections for the elf. He pulled her into an embrace and held her until she relaxed into him. He whispered something to her as she nodded, but Vilkas couldn’t hear despite his keen ears.

“Are you alright?” Vilkas asked Archer, who was still angry. He wasn’t sure if that anger was for him or for the man who hurt his sister. Perhaps both.

“I’m fine,” he answered, but he was anything but. “I… I just want to kill that fucker.” 

“I understand. I would too if it happened to my brother. Don’t worry. We will find these bastards and kill them. We need to get the upper hand and catch them by surprise.”

Archer nodded and stood, approaching his sister, pulling her away from Farkas to give her a hug. She wrapped her arms around him as they held each other, but they didn’t speak. Their shared womb allowed them to say all that needed to be said without voicing it. When they separated, he headed upstairs to work off his frustrations with training. 

Before Vilkas headed back to his room to go over his notes, he sensed pressure of someone grabbing his arm. When he turned, he saw Aela with her silver eyes glowing in the dim light. “We need to talk,” she whispered. Vilkas nodded and followed her to his room, closing the door.

“Something is off with her story,” she said.

“I agree.”

“Telona is holding something back. I can sense it, but I’m not sure what or why. We need to question her again. Push harder. What is she protecting? Is it him? It wouldn’t be unheard of that a prisoner fell for their jailor.”

“No. We will not push her harder. She’s family now, Aela, and we will treat her as such. We don’t know if she’s holding back because she’s trying to protect her torturers. It might be something so horrible that happened to her, she doesn’t want to share it. I can hardly blame her, especially with how protective her brother is. It’s possible she’s trying to protect him more than herself.”

“Perhaps, but instincts say there is more to her story she’s not sharing,” she insisted.

“I understand and it may be true, but we can’t assume it’s because she’s a bad person. She’s done nothing but prove herself, and she’s been through a lot. I will talk to Archer. Maybe he can reach her now that she’s told more of her story. Though he mentioned she was having nightmares. It could mean her ordeal was so bad, she couldn’t get into the details of it,” he said. Vilkas understood her worries because she shared them, but he didn’t want to push Telona over the edge. What little she told them took its toll on her. He also figured that no matter how laid back Archer was, he would kill anyone who hurt his sister. That even meant the Companions. This was one of those times he wished Kodlak was still alive. The old man would understand what to do and prod information out of Telona that made even the hardest person open up.

“Fine, have Archer talk to her,” Aela said and walked out the door to his room.

“We have a meeting before dinner with the rest of the Companions. Don’t forget.” What he didn’t tell her was that he would not force Telona to say more. He knew it was in part because of Archer. To see his sister in pain had him hurting. Vilkas didn’t want to make it worse. Perhaps it made him a bad Harbinger to care about the feelings of one instead as a family, but part of him didn’t care. He trusted Archer and deep down, he thought Telona suffered enough.

“Will someone please remove the ale from Torvar!” Vilkas ordered, already sensing the headache threatening.

“Hey!” Torvar complained when Njada was the only one brave enough to take away his drink.

“I need you sober for the meeting if it’s not too much to ask. This shit is serious,” Vilkas explained, looking around the table of Companions in the mead hall. It didn’t escape his notice that Ria was sitting too close to Archer. Despite the elf’s objections at not having an interest in her, he still had to choke down the bristling jealousy. It didn’t help that Archer’s arm rested on the back of her chair. _Remind me why I care again?_

Telona also sat very close to Farkas, as if he was her beacon to sanity and hope. They were growing close at an alarming rate. He liked Telona well enough, but after what she’d been through and withholding information, he wasn’t sure he entirely trusted her enough with his brother. He would be a poor leader if he didn’t have his suspicions. Vilkas would just have to have a brief chat with Farkas later.

“Can we get fucking on with this?” Njada snapped. “I’m starving and would like to eat my dinner.” 

Vilkas narrowed his eyes at her but nodded. “The point of this meeting is to make everyone aware that there is a growing threat against the Companions. I needn’t remind you of what happened when we lost Kodlak thanks to the Silver Hand—”

“I thought we wiped those assholes out,” Athis interrupted, confused.

“I thought so too,” Vilkas concurred. “After rescuing Archer and Telona, we found out the Silver Hand is growing in strength. They are more powerful than they were, highly organized, and they have a new group that is assisting them.”

“You have got to be kidding me? We have to worry about the Silver Hand and this new group? Who are these assholes?” Njada complained.

“According to Telona, they call themselves Vigilants of Stendarr—”

“What do you mean, according to Telona? And we trust her word, why?” the Nord woman interrupted.

Vilkas pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself so he wouldn’t snap at the woman as the pain in his head grew. “Njada? Can you shut up and let me finish?” _Yep, he is no Kodlak._ When she remained silent, thank the gods, he continued. “Yes, according to Telona, the Vigilants of Stendarr are some sort of zealous cult who have it in their heads that the Daedra are a threat to our lives. To be fair, I’m not sure I disagree with that assessment, but apparently, they make it their life mission to destroy all Daedric artifacts—”

“—including their children,” Ria finished for him. 

Vilkas nodded at the Imperial woman, appreciating her for catching on so fast. She was one of the newest members of the Companions, but she learned quickly and she was sharp. “Aye, including their children. Archer and Telona, as you may be aware, are Hircine’s children. But they aren’t the only Daedric children out there. Farkas and I met one last year who was Sanguine’s daughter—”

“Sanguine’s daughter? Where can I find this delicious female? I bet she’s fantastic in bed,” Torvar said, not slurring his words yet since no one allowed him to drink during the meeting.

“Can we please stick to the issue at hand?” Vilkas sighed. Fuck, he hated being Harbinger. “ _Anyway_ , there are children, I assume.”

“I wasn’t even aware the Daedra could have children,” Athis said. “I wonder if Azura has one. Now that I would like to see.”

“Apparently, they can, and do, as you can tell with Telona and Archer here.”

Aela raised her hand to speak because she was more patient and didn’t interrupt. “We are aware of the story about our Elven friends here, but how do we know for sure that Hircine is their father?”

Vilkas shrugged. “I only have his word for it since he is the one who told me. As I’ve told you, he came to me to help save his children.”

Archer was about to explain about their beasts they were born with, but he remembered Vilkas telling him once the whelps didn’t know and not to mention anything.

“That begs to question. Why? He’s a powerful entity. Why would he need our help?” Aela asked.

“Fair question—”

“Because he’s no different from a deadbeat dad, Daedra or not. Look, it doesn’t matter. He abandoned our mother and us. I say fuck him. We don’t need him,” Archer spat. It was still a sensitive subject for him.

“Fine. Whatever. Can we get back on track please?” Vilkas’ headache was growing by the minute. He just wanted to say what he needed to and move on with his life of pretending not to be the Harbinger of the Companions for an hour or two. “Okay. The fact is, we have a growing threat against us. Someone hired Archer and me to clear out a bandit camp, but instead, it was a damned stronghold full of Silver Hand. To make matters worse, they were forging specialized weapons to use against us.”

“What sort of weapons?” Aela asked.

_Shit_. He shouldn’t have mentioned the weapons. He should have discussed that during the meeting with the Circle only. _See. Terrible leader, almost making such a horrible blunder as telling the others about their beasts._ “I’m unsure. I’m still trying to figure that out, but they are unlike anything I have seen. They left behind a book explaining how to make these weapons and their purpose against us,” he explained, then looked at Aela, trying to convey that he would explain further later. She gave a slight nod to her head to show she understood.

“So these assholes are organized, funded, and are making special weapons against us?” Njada asked, throwing her arms in the air, then folding them as she fumed. “That’s just fucking fantastic.”

“We need to be ready. Keep training and stay on guard. We aren’t sure if we will have another attack like last time or something worse. Farkas and I have had first-hand experience with these Vigilants. We didn’t know who they were at the time, but many are powerful mages. I don’t want anyone traveling alone. We work jobs in pairs. Is that understood?” When everyone nodded, he closed out the meeting so they could all eat dinner.

When Vilkas sat down, Tilma came out with plates full of food, placing them on the table as the Companions dug in. The Harbinger’s eyes were closed, pinching his nose, willing away the sharp pain in his head, but didn’t want to head downstairs to get a health potion. He had no patience to lead. Fuck, he missed Kodlak. Before he could dwell on it further, a warmth spread through his head. His headache miraculously vanished. When he looked up, he saw Archer standing close to him.

“You looked like you could use it,” he said.

“Thanks. How could you tell?”

“It had nothing to do with the scowl, pinching of the nose, or rubbing of the temples.”

Vilkas blew out a laugh, unable to help himself. “As you can see, I’m not cut out for this.”

Archer sat down and leaned in close. “For what? Being a gorgeous and grumpy werewolf?” he whispered in Vilkas’ ear.

Vilkas cut his eyes over at Archer, trying not to smile, but sensing the heat creeping up his neck to his face. The elf made it easy sometimes to laugh, especially when it didn’t feel like a knife was gouging out his brain. “Gorgeous, huh?”

“Definitely.”

Vilkas shook his head and smiled, picking at the chicken with his fingers, and dropped a piece in his mouth. “I meant being the Harbinger. I’m not patient enough for this.”

Archer shrugged. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You are keeping your people informed and trying to keep them safe. I think you’re doing just fine, but what do I know? I’m just a flirtatious brat.”

“Nice to see you’re good at self-introspection,” Vilkas teased.

“Oh, ho! Look at you dishing it out. You’re saying I am a brat?”

“You’re definitely a brat,” he quipped, trying not to laugh at Archer’s feigned hurt.

“I bet you like me anyway, despite my childish flaws,” Archer flirted.

“You’re tolerable.”

“Tolerable,” he scoffed. “And what about how handsome I am for an elf.”

“You’re not unfortunate.”

Archer barked out a laugh. “Look at you, you big ole tease.”

“Ria looks rather put out,” Vilkas said, watching the Imperial woman trying not to look his way talking to Archer.

“Who wouldn’t be jealous, sitting next to such a creature as yourself?” Archer figured he was pushing the teasing and flirts a bit, seeing how far he could go. He really wanted to get to know Vilkas more, push him a bit out of his comfort zone to see if he stood a chance to have something more intimate with the man.

“You flatter.”

“Is it working?”

Vilkas smiled and shoved some more chicken in his mouth, not answering. 

Farkas leaned in close to Telona, seeing she looked better, but was still struggling after their meeting earlier that day. At least she wasn’t fidgeting again. He thought, now that dinner was over, perhaps he would take her out to the Bannered Mare for some music and drinks. It looked like she needed something fun to take her mind away from the pain.

“Hey, how would you like to get out of here?” he asked her.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s head to the Bannered Mare and grab some drinks. It’s quite a fun place to hang out. It looks like you need it.”

“Are you asking me out on a date,” she asked, winging her brow with a crooked smile.

“Yes.”

Telona laughed for the first time that day. “At least, you’re honest. I like that.”

“So... is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

Farkas’ heart thudded, excited about this lucky turn of events. He actually didn’t intend this to be a date, but since she asked, how could he not agree to that? He wanted to get to know her more intimately, so why not? 

The Companion stood and held out his hand for her to take. When she grabbed it, she stood. Then they tangled their fingers, walking out to the door to scowls from the other two men, but Farkas didn’t miss it, giving the two men a small wave. It was too bad. Farkas was faster.

“I only have one rule for tonight,” Farkas said when they sat down at a table.

“Are you giving me dating rules, Farkas?”

“That I am, but only one.”

“I’m listening.”

“We don’t talk about anything negative. So we are going to share a couple of pints, maybe do a little dancing if you’re up to it, and have some fun.”

Telona laughed at the big man. “You got yourself a deal.”

So far, the evening was enjoyable. Farkas introduced Telona to a few people who lived in Whiterun. They probably drank a few too many meads, and there were a lot of laughs as they got familiar with each other. 

When the bard picked up his lute and strummed out a few slow cords, Farkas stood and offered his hand. “How about a dance?” he asked.

“Mmm, I’m not much of a dancer. In fact, I’ve never been dancing.”

“We really need to rectify that. Come on. I promise it’s not too painful. I may be a big guy, but I’m pretty steady on my feet. Just follow my lead.” When Telona smiled and gave him her hand, he lifted her to her feet and pulled her in close to him, snaking an arm around her waist. 

The elf was a little lightheaded from the mead, and it was the first time in a while she was truly at ease. With one hand resting in his and the other wrapped around his shoulder, she leaned her head into his chest, and followed his slow and easy movements, listening to the music along with his heartbeat. She could fall asleep like that. He was so comforting. His body wrapped around hers was like being enveloped by a thick, warm blanket by a cozy fire. 

“I thought you would fit nicely against me,” he said over the music.

Telona laughed and looked up at him. “Is that so?”

“Yep. Do you disagree?”

“Mmm, no, I think you might be right.”

Telona stopped smiling when Farkas leaned down, closing his eyes, and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes turned wide with a sudden wave of guilt that she was somehow cheating. That it was wrong to be kissing this man. But when he licked her bottom lip and breached her mouth with his tongue, she groaned and melted into him. His full lips were soft and his kiss was tender. It wasn’t hurried or desperate, as if to give her a chance to acclimate to him. There was no need. That sensual kiss was all it took to wash away her worries and stresses of the day. Morric was quickly forgotten. 

“You’re so beautiful, Telona,” he whispered in her ear when he pulled away. 

She smiled shyly, but her reaction wasn’t as she plunged her lips to his again. It was deeper, more desperate, but no less intimate. Strangely enough, her stomach wasn’t fluttering, nor was she blushing. It felt as if she had known Farkas for a long time. That this was as natural to them as breathing. He just had that way about him. Everyone who met the large Nord took an instant liking to him.

“Gods, I want so much more, but it’s late. Let’s get you back home,” he groaned when they finally separated. 

“Let’s do this again.”

“Oh, we are definitely doing this again.”

Telona chuckled as they tangled their fingers together and left back to Jorrvaskr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Next: Developing frienships


	11. Strengthening Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer tries to nudge his way closer into Vilkas' life. Slowly but surely. Telona keeps denying she's having issues to her brother, who doesn't believe her. Archer and Farkas work on a job together and do a little bonding of their own. Telona's nightmares are growing too real.

Vilkas was sipping his tea in the early morning hours, getting ready for the day. There were no pressing jobs, so today would be a good one to train. They were going to need it. After dinner last night, Vilkas pulled Aela aside and told her about the weapons Archer and he found at the Silent Moons Camp. She cursed. The memory of losing Skjor to silver weapons, then Kodlak, was still raw for all of them. “I’m glad you caught yourself before mentioning them to the rest of the whelps. They are not to say anything, do you understand?” After he agreed, he headed to bed for a night of restless sleep, hence the caffeine this morning.

“Ah! Mornin’ brother!” Farkas said, plopping down in a chair across from Vilkas who sat at the table where he spent most of his days pushing paper when he wasn’t training the whelps. 

Vilkas raised his eyes to his twin without smiling. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“Yep. Last night was a whole lotta fun.”

“I bet. So, are you Telona a thing now?” Vilkas asked, looking back at his reports, but not really paying attention to them. Then took another sip of tea.

“Maybe. I hope so,” Farkas replied, his smile beaming.

Vilkas sighed. He hated to do this to his brother, but the thought of Farkas and Telona together concerned him. He didn’t want either of them hurt, least of all Archer, who wouldn’t be happy if Farkas broke his sister’s heart. “Look, Fark. Perhaps it’s not a good idea to jump into anything with her just yet. We know little about the siblings. She’s also been through a lot. Torture changes a person.”

“I understand that. She needs someone who cares and understands to help get her through it.”

“Archer cares about her. I realize you mean well, but she has her brother to help her. Plus…”

Farkas narrowed his eyes, wondering where his brother was going with this and why. “Plus what?”

“She’s not being entirely truthful. Aela and I are… concerned,” he admitted.

“Come on. You know how torture works. The poor thing has been through a lot. Can you blame her for not wanting to go into the painful details? Besides, as much as I love you, it’s not your business.”

Vilkas cocked a brow. It wasn’t like Farkas to get defensive like that, even as mild as his comment was. That meant he really liked her more than he was letting on. “I’m just trying to watch out for my one and only brother. I don’t want you getting hurt. Just… take it slow.”

Farkas blew out a laugh. “Brother, it was just one kiss. It’s not like we are getting married or anything.”

“Aye, you’re right. I just worry,” Vilkas nodded.

“You worry too much. No wonder you’re so crabby all the time.”

“Aye, no thanks to you and Aela making me Harbinger,” he sighed. 

“Better you than me,” Farkas chuckled. “And you understand how Aela is. She has no patience for this stuff.”

“As if I do.”

Farkas stood up and clapped his brother on the back. “You have more than you think,” he said, then walked out to go train the whelps.

When Vilkas finished his work, he headed upstairs and out into the training yard to begin his day. The morning was already growing warm. While he enjoyed warmer weather, he preferred the cold during training because it was sweaty work. As soon as he stepped outside, he groaned. Fucking Njada and Athis were at it again, punching each other over some petty bullshit. It took little to set Njada off. Those two bickered worse than an old married couple. More than once he wanted to tell them to just fuck out their issues, but that wasn’t very becoming of a Harbinger, though it would probably work. Vilkas often wondered if the Nord woman had a thing for the Dunmer and took her frustrated feelings out on the poor elf’s face.

It was strange to witness Farkas being the student as Telona went over how to use daggers effectively to Ria and his brother. Vilkas had to admit the elf woman was excellent with knives. She didn’t seem to be afraid to get close and personal to defend herself. 

Then his eyes drew to Archer. Shit, Archer always drew him in, it seemed. He groaned under his breath, seeing the elf’s tunic off, bare-chested, muscles defined and firm. His body threatened to betray him again. That was just what Vilkas needed—a distraction, so he focused on how the elf handled his sword. It was Archer’s turn to learn how to be more proficient using the two-handed sword. He was strong enough for it.

Archer’s target looked like a pincushion, it was so full of arrows, most of them dead-center. Before he released another arrow, he sensed eyes on him. When he released the arrow, it missed its target by a few centimeters. He cursed under his breath, knowing it was Vilkas who was staring at him. It wasn’t the first time the Harbinger had eyes on him. He didn’t know what Vilkas was thinking or why he was staring so frequently, but he hoped it was a good thing. It was so hard to tell with his delicious scowls. Archer wasn’t able to figure out why he liked them so much. His brain refused to explain it.

The elf turned to Vilkas, sensing him close. “Nice of you to join the living. Must be nice to sleep in. No wonder you always look so good,” he teased, unable to help himself when it came to the Harbinger.

“Some of us have other work to do besides showing off,” Vilkas clapped back.

“Oh, I don’t need to show off. I’m just that good.”

“No humility I see, too.”

Archer shrugged. “When you’re good, you’re good. I don’t see a point in pretending otherwise.”

_Fair enough._ Vilkas’ eyes wandered around the training yard, trying to avoid the muscular flesh before him, feeling the first tingles of a hard-on between his legs. _Fuck. I need to get myself under control or else this is going to be a long day._ “We need to work on your two-handed skills today,” he said without looking at the elf.

“Oh, it’s going to be a good day with you working me.”

_Damn, that cheeky bastard can tease_. Vilkas could never figure out if he was teasing him to flirt or just get a rise out of him. Whichever it was, it worked. He liked it and it annoyed him if that was possible. “I’m going to work your ass to the ground if you don’t get serious.”

“Promises, promises.”

Vilkas scowled at the bright, sweaty face plastered with a toothy smile. _Yep, it’s going to be a long day._ “Just get your sword.”

Vilkas worked Archer’s ass off. That’s what he got for being a constant flirt and a smart mouth. He couldn’t help himself. It was so much fun to tease the Harbinger, especially when he removed his tunic, the sweat glistening off those lean muscles on that well-defined body. Archer groaned at the thought as he soaked his aching body in the steaming water. His body ached all over and Vilkas nailed him a few times with the sword too, so bruises covered his body. It was his own damn fault. He was either thinking about Vilkas’ body or he was watching his sister, still concerned about how she was dealing with everything after telling her story. The urge to leave and slaughter every one of those bastards filled him, overflowing with anger, but he trusted Vilkas to get things organized and attack. So, he pushed his frustrations and worries deep down.

Telona looked good while training Farkas and Ria with daggers, he had to admit. She smiled more and even laughed a few times. She told him all about her date with Farkas and he was happy for her. Archer was normally overprotective, but Farkas was a good guy. He had a lot more patience and kindness in him than Vilkas did. He would be good for his twin. Vilkas, on the other hand, was like a sexy bad boy. No, he had kindness too, but he wasn’t as expressive with it as Farkas was. That thought stirred up the heat and desire in his body and he didn’t understand why. There was just something about that broody man that set him on fire. Every time he scowled at him, his cock jumped. _I’m so weird._

Despite all his flirts, Vilkas wasn’t taking the bait. He had to admit; it was frustrating. Perhaps he should try harder or use a different tactic to get the Companion’s attention rather than just scowls and nose pinching, despite how hot it made him appear.

Archer climbed out of the washbasin, grabbed a towel, and dried off. Then he threw on some linen breeches and a clean tunic. When he left the washroom, he looked down the hall where Vilkas spent most of his time working, pouring over papers. He didn’t expect to see the man slumped over the table on top of his books and scrolls. Usually, Vilkas was in his room during the evening, reading a book. _The day must have exhausted him._ It would have been a good time to flirt and throw a quip about how Archer wore his ass out if the man was awake.

It was quiet in the downstairs living quarters, except for a periodic snore with everyone sleeping already. It wasn’t that late, but training was hard today.

He walked down the hall to wake Vilkas and get him in bed. The man was going to have a crick in his neck and back if he stayed that way all night. Vilkas sleeping like that made it doubly worse after a hard workout with tight muscles.

When he reached the Nord, his face was on the table turned towards Archer. His arms were resting on papers and books. Vilkas looked so peaceful. He was even more attractive in his relaxed state if that was possible. The elf couldn’t help but stare at the man for a moment, soaking him in. He stirred between his legs, but he shut it down, not wanting to get riled up before bed. Something had to change, and fast, or his dick was going to fall off from the torture. _Okay, so my dick won’t fall off, but it’s still torture._

Archer leaned down, inhaling the man. So he wanted to breathe him in. _No harm done, right?_ He smelled fresh from his bath earlier, the scent of lavender and juniper wafting off of him. _Fine, I’m being creepy. Stop sniffing the man._ He pressed a hand to Vilkas’ back and gently shook him. “Come on, big guy. You’re going to regret sleeping here in the morning.”

Vilkas was out, so he shook him by the shoulder a little harder. “Time for bed, sleepyhead.”

The Harbinger stirred awake, eyes fluttering, looking confused as to his whereabouts. Archer patted him on the back. “There’s the good wolf. Come on.”

Vilkas sat up and groaned, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What time is it?”

“It’s not that late, but you fell asleep at your table. We worked hard today, and I didn’t want you to regret sleeping face down on paper.”

The man nodded and stood up, wincing. “Shit.”

“I guess we regret it already. Sore back?”

“Aye, and neck. Dammit.”

Archer nodded knowingly. “I gotcha. Hold still,” he ordered, casting a healing spell. He grabbed Vilkas by the arm to hold him still as he placed his glowing hand at the base of the man’s neck. The golden ribbons of the spell flowed through his hand and into Vilkas’s neck. Archer could sense where the pain was and focused on that area. He wasn’t a phenomenal healer, but he learned enough in case he ever injured himself while hunting.

Vilkas groaned in relief as the healing spell erased the painful crick in his neck. Archer’s hand then slid down his spine, grazing his back under his shoulder blades where he had muscle spasms. He looked at Archer, thinking the elf’s focus was on his back, but Archer's silvery eyes locked on his with a small smile on his face. Vilkas wondered why there was no smirk on Archer’s face, thinking if it was permanently set that way. 

Vilkas sensed the burning heat creeping up his face, being so close to Archer. Their faces were mere inches away. He could see the water drip down his skin from his wet hair and smell the soap they all shared. He looked down at Archer’s mouth, watching him bite down on his lower lip. _Fuck, why does he like that?_ It would only take a slight movement to lean in and kiss the elf.

Archer’s hand then moved down to the small of Vilkas’ back, casting his spell. He didn’t realize how many knots he had in his back until the elf cured him of his pain. _Damn, that felt good._ Between the elf’s touches and standing so close to him, There was a stirring between his legs. _Now’s not the time!_ More heat crept up his face, and when he eyed Archer again, the elf’s smile was broad. _Dammit, he noticed._

“You… can stop now. I’m fine,” Vilkas said, with a strange disappointment as Archer removed his hands. _But you can touch me some more in other ways._ The thought intruded unwanted into his mind “Thank you,” he said instead.

“Anytime,” Archer whispered in Vilkas’ ear, sending chills down his arm. 

There was a moment of awkwardness as the two men stood there in silence. The urge to lean in, grab Archer’s face and pull him into a kiss was overwhelming. Vilkas had to get himself under control. He understood the elf preferred men, but would he even like him? The Harbinger spent more time scowling and sulking than anything. It was probably a turn-off and he wasn’t in the mood for rejection.

“Well… goodnight,” Vilkas said, pulling himself away from Archer.

“Need me to tuck you in?” Archer couldn’t help himself. Vilkas just brought it out of him. To his surprise, the man didn’t scowl. There was a smirk there that did something between his legs. 

“I think I can handle it. Goodnight, Archer,” he said again.

The elf’s eyes never left him as Vilkas walked back to his room. “Goodnight,” he said, humor in his voice.

As soon as Vilkas shut his door behind him, Archer groaned inwardly but was smiling. _Vilkas, you naughty wolf._ There is definitely interest there. But the Nord got him so riled, he headed back to the washroom because there was only one thing he desperately needed to do, and that was to give his poor dick relief. They were so close and he could almost sense Vilkas’ need to lean in and kiss him. Archer could work with that. Now to work his dick in the only private place in Jorrvaskr.

Vilkas laid back onto his bed with an arm tucked under his head. That fucking cock tease had him riled. And that was exactly what Archer was—a fucking cock tease. He closed his eyes to the recent memory of the elf’s scent so close to him, his dilated silver eyes, his touch on his back. His dick twitched thinking about how close he was to pressing his lips with Archer. The elf was gorgeous. He couldn’t deny that. And while he was a tease and a flirt, there was kindness there too. Archer was concerned for him and his pain sleeping at the table, he was protective of his sister. Archer was a lot of things, but Vilkas had yet to find anything negative.

He sighed as his hand inched down inside his breeches and smalls, grabbing his still hard cock. He was going to have to do something about that before he could fall asleep again. As he closed his eyes, he imagined Archer hovering over his body, planting kisses and licks down his body. Then he wrapped those full lips around him, sucking him until he was dry. _Fuck, that was too fast._ Vilkas came but still wasn’t enough. He needed more—preferably the real thing. But it was enough to fall back asleep.

Archer rolled the sleeves of his tunic up his broad biceps. He stretched, arms reaching up in the air, then came down to grab his cup of tea for some much-needed caffeine. They were in a meeting, planning for the day, and Vilkas could hardly take his eyes off of the elf. _Focus, wolf._ “Farkas, take Archer north of Whiterun to clear out to new bandit camps. One has taken over an iron mine, which the city needs. Then there’s been reports of another too close to the city. They’ve been stealing and hoarding supplies. Once you two have cleared out both camps, I will send Athis and Torvar with a carriage to claim the stolen goods. We may not find the previous owners, but we can hand out supplies to those in need.”

“Oh, so you _do_ have a heart,” Archer said, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back so far in his chair, tempting Vilkas to press his foot to it and knock him back on his ass.

“I’m not always a frigid asshole,” he retorted.

“Ha!” Archer barked. “Too bad because I like frigid assholes.”

Vilkas ground his teeth and clenched his jaw as the heat crept up his face. He had no comeback to that. Archer always seemed to have the last word. It didn’t help that the rest of the whelps were there, sniggering. _Ugh. How am I supposed to be a leader if Archer keeps teasing me in front of others?_ To add to his frustration, Ria couldn’t take her eyes off of the elf. Despite Archer’s words that there was no interest there, he wondered if the elf misread her. He bristled with jealousy again. “Are you done?”

The elf waved a hand for Vilkas to proceed. How kind of him. He did all he could to keep from rolling his eyes. “Everyone has their duties. We’re finished here.”

“Archer. Wait a moment, please,” Vilkas said as the elf was leaving to get ready for his job.

The elf turned, arms folding, facing him. He had a smirk, but he kept silent. It was time Vilkas nipped this in the bud. “Archer, I get you’re a… tease. But I am having a hard enough time being a leader and I need my people to respect me. Can you take it down a notch, please? Especially in front of the others.”

“Does that mean I can tease you any other time?” 

Vilkas pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, wishing away the headache that was forming.

“I am teasing again. Sorry. I hear you. I will be the utmost professional in front of the others,” Archer said. 

“Thank you,” Vilkas sighed. “That’s all I ask.”

Archer felt bad. He was pushing Vilkas too far with his teases. He couldn’t help himself. The man brought it out of him. It was too much fun, and he loved to see the man getting flustered. It made him adorable. Archer was like a wilted plant needing water, and Vilkas’ reactions were his sustenance. But the man was right. Archer needed to stop teasing him so much in front of the others. Being a leader couldn’t be easy. He would be more thoughtful about that in the future.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Telona asked, watching her brother pack.

“I don’t know. Two days, probably. Why?”

When she didn’t answer, he turned around to face her, seeing the worry in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly concerned. He thought she was doing better, especially with Farkas’ attention.

“Nothing,” she said and walked off before he grabbed her arm, pulling her into an embrace.

“You don’t get to tell me it’s nothing. You realize I can read you like a book. What’s going on, Tel?”

“Really, I… you and Farkas will be gone for two days. I’m just… used to you sleeping next to me when my dreams get bad.”

Archer sighed and held her tighter. “I know you’re still having nightmares. I wish you would talk to me about it. Come on, Tel. Why have you not been honest with me about everything that happened to you?”

“I told you everything.”

“You’re a terrible liar, but I won’t force you to talk. Listen, I can talk to Ria. Perhaps you can curl up with her. You two seem to get along well.”

Telona shook her head and tried to give him a smile. “It’s fine. I can live for a couple of days.”

Archer’s brows furrowed, hating her lying so much, but he was sure she had her reasons. “Let me talk to Vilkas. Why don’t you just come with us?”

She shook her head. “No, really. I’m fine.” 

Telona pulled away and headed upstairs to the training yard. Before he could chase after her, Farkas knocked on the doorway to the communal bedroom. “Ready?” he asked.

Archer smiled and nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

Later that morning, Farkas rented a horse that would take them north of Whiterun to the bandit camps. As Archer rode behind the bigger twin, he thought perhaps it was time he and his sister learned to ride properly. 

“You’re not as comfortable riding behind as Vilkas,” Archer said.

Farkas burst out a laugh. “Well, I’m a smidge bigger than him. But I’m sure that’s not your only problem.”

“Oh, _do_ tell, you mountain of a man. What is my other problem?”

“You like my brother… more than a friend.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Farkas roared with laughter. It wasn’t hard to get that man to smile and laugh. “I think it’s obvious to anyone but my brother. He’s not the most observant when others are interested in him. For as smart and attractive as he is, he still has some pent-up insecurities. It’s probably due to his irritability. Vilkas may believe no one could like him because of his personality. He’s a great guy, but he has to let people in to see the real man underneath all that brooding.”

“Yeah, I’m running out of quips and teases. I guess he’s going to have to force my hand to be blunt. I hate being blunt. It’s much more fun to flirt,” Archer admitted. “But I already know what a great man he is. He needn’t worry there.”

“Vilkas is straightforward. Despite how much I love to watch my brother squirm as you flirt with him, just be honest. If you really like him, that’s what you should do.”

“Well, what’s the fun in that? Despite my over-confident demeanor, I don’t take rejection well. I can get quite morose and pouty.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Farkas said, chuckling. “You are the most jovial damned person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen me rejected yet,” Archer quipped.

“I think my brother likes you too, seeing how he looks at you. I wouldn’t worry about rejection. If I know him, and I do, he’s afraid of the same thing.”

It was nice getting Farkas’ point of view and hearing his observations about his brother. That helped boost Archer’s confidence in approaching Vilkas. He was going to give it a bit more time because he wasn’t lying. He didn’t do rejection well. Archer’s been hurt a lot. His ego, despite outwards appearances, was fragile. That was from years of rejection from men. It was hard to find a non-straight man. When he did, that didn’t mean they were into elves. But he couldn’t let the idea of Vilkas go either. He was too attracted to the Nord.

“While we are talking about interests with twins, don’t you dare hurt Telona, Fark. I like you. I would hate to hurt you.”

Farkas laughed, but he figured Archer was serious despite his humorous tone. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Your sister is a wonderful woman.”

“I know. That’s why I will eviscerate anyone who hurts her.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. I feel the same about Vilkas.”

“Warning heard and understood.”

The first bandit camp was easy to destroy. Reports were correct that there was a small cave used as storage for stolen goods by the group of bandits. Once Archer and Farkas killed them off, they perused the goods, finding all sorts of things that could be used to help the needy, especially food and clothes. 

When they completed their job, they headed towards the Halted Stream Mine, which was only a few miles away. When they reached halfway, they dismounted the rented horse, tied it up, and walked the rest of the way. 

The bandits fortified the camp well. It wasn’t unlike Silent Moons Camp that Vilkas and he cleared out, but it was smaller. They surrounded the area with a wooden wall, its beams sharpened to a fine point, making it impossible to climb. There were makeshift perches to see past the walls so the bandits could see far and wide. It was also surrounded by bear traps and strands of bones to sound if someone dared sneak in.

Archer pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow. “Let me take out the sentries and anyone else I have a clear shot with,” he suggested.

Farkas gave a quick nod. “Go for it.”

Usually, his priority was taking out the sentries overlooking the land. But this time there were a couple of bandits walking around inside. Since the sentries had their backs turned, it would be easier to take out the men on the ground first. One arrow after another took out the two bandits. Then, just as quickly, he took out the sentries, one after one. 

“I’m not sure what you need me for,” Farkas chuckled.

“To keep me company, of course.”

“Is that what you’ve reduced me to? Your entertainment?”

“Oh, come now. You’re so much more than that. You’re the brother of my favorite broody Nord,” he laughed, clapping Farkas on the back.

“At least, I’m good for something,” he muttered as they made their way inside the camp to clear out the mines.

_The back of his hand grazed her cheek down to her jaw. He was always so gentle until he wasn’t. Tonight he was kind. His green eyes were soft and shone with tenderness. How could a man who inflicted so much pain have so much love for her? Telona tried to tell herself he was a liar, but his eyes told her the truth. Or did they? Her head shook as if she could rid herself of her confusion, despite his touch ratcheting up her heart rate._

_“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear, pressing soft kisses down her throat._

_She grasped his hand touching her face and reached for his, running fingers along his jawline. Dark scruff covered the lower half of his face. Rarely did he let his beard grow out, preferring soft skin. She wondered what was wrong for him to be so neglectful of his face. “I’ve missed you too.”_

_“You’re growing slack, my dear. We are going to have to push you to train some more.”_

_“I don’t need anymore. I… I will do anything. Please,” she begged. “I love you.”_

_“You arguing with me proves you are slacking. I’m going to have to punish you for that.”_

_Tears slipped down her face as he wiped them away as a lover might. No, he_ was _her lover, wasn’t he? Her lip quivered as her eyes pleaded for him to just love her instead of hurting her._

_“Tsk. Look at you begging me with your eyes. Naughty Telona. You are defying me and you know I have no tolerance for resistance. How can I love you if you don’t trust me to know what you need?”_

_She nodded her head, resigning to the fact that Morric had to punish her for her defiance. When she was lying back on her bed, the electricity slammed through her body—_

Telona woke up crying out and gasping for breath, still feeling the tingles of electricity, though it was more of a memory rather than the actual thing. She looked around, hand pressed to her heart as her breathing and heart slowed down to healthy rates. As she looked around, it surprised her everyone was still asleep. Everyone, that was, except for Ria, who slept in Talas’ bed per his request. 

“Bad dream?” Ria asked, whispering to not wake the others.

Telona nodded and laid back down, rolling onto her side, facing away from the Imperial woman. There was no going back to sleep after that dream without Talas or Farkas there to hold her. The dream differed from the others. Before her dreams were about what happened to her. This one was too real like he was really there touching her, inflicting his pain. He looked different too. She turned to look around the room again. Morric was nowhere to be seen. It must have been a dream, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated. <3
> 
> Next: Hircine keeps his promise.


	12. Promises and Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hircine keeps his promise to Vilkas. He and Farkas find themselves free of their bleastblood for the first time in years. Because Archer continues to fight Hircine, the Prince decides to gift his son with the help from Sanguine, who owes him a favor. Telona and Farkas finally connect on a deeper level, but it doesn't turn out as expected or hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know why Sanguine owes Hircine, you can read about it in [Lust for Life](https://i.imgur.com/159vYzJ.jpg)
> 
> NSFW Content.

Farkas and Archer weren’t due to return until early afternoon, and besides, it was his day off from training the whelps, so Vilkas thought to get ahead on his paperwork and sort through the incoming gold from completed jobs. Archer was due his pay, as was Telona, so he counted out the coins to hand them later. This was the worst part of his job. Sure, he loved gold. It was one reason he enjoyed being a Companion. But, the job as Harbinger was boring. He was too young still to be trapped inside, pushing papers. Vilkas missed being out there, the adrenaline rush from killing bandits, wind in his hair as he ran on his horse—

Hircine’s arrival from out of nowhere startled Vilkas out of his reverie. His heart missed a beat or two, jumping out of his throat. “Some warning would be nice,” he growled.

“I’m a hunter and stealth is a necessity for survival. What did you expect? War horns at my arrival?”

“Yes, horns would be nice. I would appreciate not having a heart attack before the age of thirty-five if it’s all the same to you,” he snarled back, knowing it was dangerous to talk back to a Daedric Prince. But paperwork pissed him off, not to mention jumping out of his skin.

Vilkas’ sigh was deep as he leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wondered if everyone was determined to give him a permanent headache. “Apologies,” he said, glancing at the Prince’s glowing eyes turning from irritation to a flash of humor before they neutralized.

“I accept since it was you who saved Talas and Telona.”

“I didn’t find Telona. You did.” Vilkas returned to sorting gold, waiting for the Prince to get to the point.

Hircine spread his hands in indifference. “True, but you, your brother, and Talas retrieved her and gave her a home. I promised a reward.”

“Aye. Thank you.”

“What can I offer you and your brother?” Hircine asked.

Vilkas paused his gold counting, crossed his arms, and stared at the Prince. “You know what I want.”

Hircine narrowed his eyes. He was reluctant to lose two valuable pups from his hunt in the afterlife. Vilkas and Farkas could prove to be entertaining hunters as beasts. The Prince struggled to let go of pups, but he made a promise. “Are you sure you want me to cleanse you? I don’t do this lightly, and it will be my only favor. Make sure there is nothing else you desire more.”

Vilkas had no doubts about what he wanted. Before Kodlak died, he made a vow to cure himself. Before he decided, he had to talk to Farkas first. He expected Farkas to follow his lead no matter what, but Vilkas struggled more with his beast than his brother did. Farkas may not care either way, but he didn’t want to decide until he talked to him first. 

“Appreciate it, but I need my brother here first to discuss the issue with him. Can we do this tomorrow? I realized I am asking a lot, but as you said, I need to be certain. I am sure what I want, but not my brother.”

Hircine reached out to Vilkas with two hands, grasping his head as a spell traveled through his body. It took only a moment. When the Prince finished, he removed his hands. Vilkas gasped as if he inhaled new life into him as a newborn babe. He closed his eyes as his heart steadied, clutching onto the table as if life depended on it, and took a deep, cleansing breath. He was free. _Finally._ His mind was free from the snarling, howling, anger. It made his eyes mist, but he choked it back. Vilkas never realized how much the beast made him struggle mentally until it was gone. Fuck. It explained why he was irritable so often. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, voice hoarse with emotion. After what he went through, trying to find the cure and struggling with his beast, it took the briefest moment to be whole again. It was almost too easy, but it wasn’t. Having the beastblood was never simple. Now it was gone.

Hircine gave him a brief nod. “I gave up a lot for my Hunting Grounds, so I am glad you are grateful. My children were worth it, though. No need to wait on your brother. I will leave now to talk to him. I need to talk to Talas, anyway.”

“But, I—”

It was too late. The Daedric Prince vanished. If Farkas didn’t want Hircine to cleanse him, then he left that decision up to his brother. He talked with Farkas often about the cure. They’ve discussed it thoroughly. He hoped he chose cleansing because he couldn’t imagine being in the afterlife without Farkas. Then he worried how Archer was going to react to the sudden appearance of his father. The elf was still bitter at his abandonment. He supposed when Archer returned, he would hear all about it.

A smile graced Vilkas’ face as he leaned his head back and took a deep breath. Fuck, it was good to be free, pure, not having something continually snarling in his mind. It was as if someone had lifted a giant weight from his mind. No, he wouldn’t miss the beast ever. It was one of the best decisions of his life.

Farkas and Archer gave the horse a rest as they grabbed a bite to eat before making it back to Jorrvaskr. Archer was chugging water when Hircine appeared. He spat it out as he choked, coughing and gasping for breath as the water went down the wrong way. Once he could breathe again, he scowled at his father. “What? Abandonment not enough? You want to kill me too?” he spat.

The Daedra’s eyes shone with humor. “If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“Well, that’s fucking reassuring. What do you want? I’m pretty sure I made it clear I want nothing to do with you.”

“I’m not here to see you,” he lied as he sat in front of the two men, crossing his legs. “I’m here to talk to Farkas.”

Farkas couldn’t hide his surprise. _What did Hircine want with him?_ “Me? Why?” he asked.

“I came to give you your reward for saving my children. I’ve already gifted Vilkas. What would you like, son?”

Archer scoffed at Hircine’s use of ‘son’ on Farkas. _Was he trying to make me jealous or something? Not working, pops._

The Nord thought, tapping his bottom lip with his finger. He understood Vilkas wanted them to be cleansed of the beastblood. But the Daedric Prince was giving him a choice, and his brother wasn’t there. It didn’t bother him being a beast nearly as much as it did Vilkas, but it was what his brother wanted. Since there wasn’t much Farkas desired, he shrugged and went with what his brother’s wishes were. “Did you cleanse Vilkas of the beastblood?”

“I did, much to my regret, but a promise is a promise,” Hircine replied, ignoring his son’s continuous scoffing. He understood it would be hard for Talas to forgive him, but he was a hunter. Hunters were known for their utmost patience. Then again, they were a stubborn lot. Tenacious. The boy would come to respect him, eventually. Anriel was another matter. His ability to sway her was in doubt.

“Then cleanse me too,” Farkas said, drawing Hircine’s attention back to him.

“Are you sure? You can have anything you want. Vilkas may want to be cured. That doesn’t mean it has to be what you desire.”

He shrugged as if being cleansed was nothing. “Nah, I’m sure. I don’t really need anything. Besides, I want to be with my brother in death too.”

“Very well,” he said, grasping Farkas’ head the same way he did his brother. In moments, it was done.

Hircine looked over at his scowling son. He was angrier and much less forgiving than Telona. Talas was going to take more work. He was as stubborn as his mother. “I gave Telona a gift. Would you like one as well?”

“I don’t need shit from you other than to leave me the fuck alone. Why do you insist on tormenting me?” Archer asked, ignoring the wide-eyes of shock from Farkas. People didn’t normally dare talk to Daedric Princes as Archer was, and lived through it, but Hircine wouldn’t harm him. _Maybe?_ He wasn’t going to play nice either. 

“I’m trying to—”

“Try harder!” Archer instantly regretted his words because then Hircine would stay in his life if he took his outburst to heart.

Hircine nodded. He wasn’t sure what could sway his son to stop being so angry. Having children was new for him. Anriel may know what to do. But he was having trouble talking with her too. He closed his eyes and intruded into Talas’ thoughts. There may be a deep, underlying secret to give him a clue to bring them closer together. He pushed through all that rage directed at him. It wasn’t an act. Of that he was certain. Talas was generally easy-going and kind, at least towards others. As he entered deeper, it surprised him to find the boy had desired the other Nord twin. Interesting—

Archer waved his hands around in the air as if being swarmed by pesky flies. “Get the fuck out of my head!”

That startled the Prince. Mortals could never tell when he was poking and prodding in their small brains. He should have known his son would be different. “Apologies. I was looking for ways to get you to… forgive me.” He didn’t need to lie to the boy, and he wasn’t a liar. Fear was the primary reason for lies, and Hircine feared nothing.

“By scrambling my brain like eggs? You won’t get ‘father of the year award’ using your little mind tricks.”

He needed to work harder with Talas, but Hircine wondered if it was worth it. He wasn’t used to having children or a damned mortal Elven woman he was obsessing over. For the first time in his life, he didn’t wasn’t sure what to do.

“Very well. I will leave. Call me if you need anything,” he said and vanished before he could hear more angry words from his son.

“Are you okay?” Farkas asked.

Archer waved his hand in dismissal. “He’s not worth getting angry over. Fine, yeah, he gets me riled up. But, I’m fine. How about you? How do you feel now that you’re cleansed? I’m curious since I was born with the beastblood.”

Farkas chuckled and shook his head, eyes filled with wonder. “It’s like… I’m not sure how to describe it. Like I am breathing fresh air for the first time. I’ve forgotten what it’s like not to have that beastblood running through my veins. I didn’t realize how much it consumed my mind until it was gone. Now I understand why Vilkas and Kodlak wanted this. Now my brother and I can die and go to Sovngarde instead of Hircine’s Hunting Grounds. It’s what Kodlak wanted and we’ve fulfilled his dying wish.”

“Good. At least my father did something right.”

Hircine paced in his realm, the Bloodmoon casting a familiar red glow throughout his Hunting Grounds, trying to wrap his head around what to do about Talas. He hated to admit he wanted his son’s love or at least respect, but he couldn’t figure out why he cared so much. Not having it or knowing how to fix it was driving him to the point of insanity. It didn’t help that Anriel rejected him at every turn. He didn’t enjoy not getting his way. That rarely happened. _Stubborn fucking mortals!_ Hircine raged, but he didn’t direct it at Anriel and his children. What he was raging at was the fact he needed to seek Sanguine’s favor to help him. The Daedric Prince of Hedonism owed him. It wasn’t the favor that was the issue, but Sanguine himself. The Prince was going to rub this family crap in his face. Perhaps he shouldn’t have tormented the other Prince so much about his love of a mortal and his daughter.

He groaned and vanished and entered Misty Grove. Sanguine had countless realms, but this one, in particular, was his favorite. Hircine had to admit it was lovely, full of lush grasses, flowers, thick trees, and lanterns strewn through branches. There were buzzing sounds of insects and glowing lunar moths and torchbugs. But the need to see Sanguine soured his mood. The only consolation to this embarrassment was that Sanguine owed him. He didn’t have to grovel for help. Hircine gritted his teeth. The torment was coming.

Sanguine was lying back on a chaise lounge, an arm resting underneath his head. He was shirtless as a naked Dibella sat next to him, feeding him grapes. _Seriously?_ He didn’t understand what the Aedra saw in Sanguine, but she was smitten for some unknown reason. Both of them turned to him at his arrival.

“Hircine, pal! What can I do for you this fine day?” Sanguine said, sitting up with a smug smile on his face. Did he figure it out?

Dibella smiled his way, then turned back to Sanguine, pressing a kiss on his nose. “I will leave you two alone. He’s not here to see me,” she said, now dressed and vanished.

“This better be good, friend. Dibella and I were just getting started,” the Daedra winked. _Ugh. This is painful._

“I’ve come to claim my favor from you. You owe me after I helped you with your daughter and my pups.”

“Ah yes! And I thank you. I recall you tormented me quite a bit over that,” Sanguine said, a gleam in his eye indicating he wasn’t that offended.

“Yes, well…” Hircine gritted his teeth, knowing he was going to have to apologize for it. “I… apologize,” he said through a clenched jaw so tight, it could crush metal.

Sanguine cupped his ear with a hand. “Come again? You, the great Hircine, apologizing to lowly old, slutty me? Now that’s a first,” he teased.

“Can we get this over with?”

The other Prince gave Hircine a deep bow, the humor never leaving his eyes. “Indeed! What will it be? Is there a mortal you love, and she wants nothing to do with you? Need a little help in the bedroom? Huh? Huh?” Sanguine laughed, winking and elbowing the Prince of the Hunt. 

_Yes._ But that wasn’t what he needed help with. “It’s… my son.”

Sanguine stood there, frozen as if by a paralysis spell, eyes wide. Hircine knew the Prince would be shocked. Then he waited for a beat for the torment. “I’m sorry. I think I misheard. Did you say… son?” he asked, shaking his head to clear his hearing.

Hircine tried to hide his defensiveness, but he wasn’t very successful, standing there, arms crossed over his chest, regretting his decision to get his favor repaid. Perhaps he didn’t think things fully through when he helped Sanguine and his daughter. “Yes. What of it?”

“No, no… nothing. I’m just… surprised is all. I mean, you _did_ mock me incessantly for having a wife and a child, so...”

_Here it comes. Just take it and move on_. “I’m aware, hence my apology.”

Sanguine scoffed. “Some apology. So, when did this happen?”

There was no point in lying. The Hedonistic Prince would know. “Years ago. Twenty-eight years to be exact.”

The other Prince waved his hands around, confusion on his face. “Wait, wait, wait. But if you’ve known about them, why did you torment me so? It’s not like you to lie, even by omission. You’ve never cared enough to.”

“I didn’t know until recently. I… was with a little elf hunter years ago. One time only. I didn’t know… she had twins.”

“Twins! You have _two_ children? Oh ho! Hircine, you sly dog!” Sanguine laughed and hooted, dancing around with glee. Hircine sighed, knowing it was coming but dammit if it wasn’t humiliating. “Who’s the other child?”

“A daughter.”

“How could you not possibly know about them until recently? I sense my daughter everywhere.”

“Yes, _after_ you connected with her. I had to connect with them first. I never kept watch over my mortal huntress afterward. She… sought my help only recently. The Vigilants and Silver Hand took my children with plans of torture. Talas, my son, got away with my help. Telona struggled, but she escaped on her own, but not without pain.”

Sanguine narrowed his eyes with a crooked smile on his face. “So, tell me, Hircine. Buddy, old pal. How does it make you feel now that you have mortal children?”

He realized the question had to come up sooner or later. How could it not? “I am not sure. I want to… get to know them.”

“And what about your little mortal huntress? Is she still forgotten? Thrown away like a used rag?”

Hircine winced at the visual. He did do that with Anriel, leaving her alone with two children to raise. He took, then left her. Now that Sanguine put it in perspective, he understood the anger. What he didn’t understand was why Telona was so forgiving. It must have been her nature. “I want her too.”

“Ooo hoo! Ha! Do I hear wedding bells then?”

“No!”

“Ah, so she loathes you, does she?”

“It’s not why…” Hircine sighed, trying to calm his growing agitation, sucking it up to take Sanguine’s abuse because he probably deserved it. “She won’t speak to me. Look. It doesn’t matter. I will deal with Anriel myself. I need help with Talas. A favor for a favor. You owe me.”

Sanguine waved a dismissal hand at him. “Oh, I remember. Just give me a moment to revel in the pleasure. I get to torment the great and stoic Hircine. So, what is the problem exactly?”

“He hates me.”

“I can’t, for the life of me, understand why.”

Hircine’s jaw was so clenched he wondered if he could break it, but he remained silent as Sanguine gloated and teased. 

“So you want me to help him not hate you so much? I’m afraid that might be out of my realm of power. If you want him to stop hating you, perhaps you could be less of a dick,” Sanguine shrugged, though the smirk never left his black and red face.

“I’m not asking for help to get him to like me. He has a desire for one of my pups…. Well, he’s a pup no longer, unfortunately. Anyway. Talas is interested in another man. I’m not sure his love interest feels the same for my son.”

“You want me to put them together? Yes, I see. I see. I hate to break it to you, but the last time I interfered in that, my daughter hated my guts and I only _nudged_ her and Erik together.”

“Talas is not your child. If you are as good as they say, he won’t know. At least see if the other one feels the same as my son. He may hate me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him happy. I gifted my daughter, so I would like to do something for my son, but he won’t let me.”

Sanguine pinched his bottom lip in thought, nodding. “Yes, I suppose I can do that. I will see if the other one cares for him. If they share the same feelings, it would be nothing for me to give them a gentle nudge in the right direction. Give me time to make a plan. Since he is a Daedric child he might notice me doing it. We will have to be careful unless you want him hating you even more if he finds out you’re involved. Trust me. I know from experience.”

“Perhaps if they connect, I can tell him it was a gift.”

“Uhm, no. Don’t do that. He will most definitely hate you more.”

Hircine sighed and nodded, grateful for the painful interaction with Sanguine was finished. “Thank you,” he gritted. “Let’s call your torment towards me even, shall we?”

“As long as I can count on your bullying to end.”

Hircine nodded. “Fine,” he said and vanished as quickly as he could. That was fucking painful.

The day began with a drizzle and low temperatures. Everyone headed inside from training except for Telona, wanting to keep up with her archery. She didn’t excel at it as Talas did, but she wasn’t terrible either. She had to make sure she practiced often. But that was a lie. It wasn’t the training she needed, but drowning the dream from her mind. It seemed so real. She shuddered at the memory. Arrow after arrow only breached her mind like a hammer to head with visions of Morric’s anger, his touch. Telona trembled as the familiar tugging and pulling traveled down her spine like lightning to metal.

It wasn’t quite nightmarish, but there was certainly an underlying fear. Morric appeared, clouding her mind was him. 

She had tunnel vision, and he was at the end of it, cloaked in darkness. The pull to return to him was strong. It roped her in. The longer she spent in Jorrvaskr and getting familiar with Farkas had helped blur those feelings as her attachment grew towards the big Nord. She did like him. He grounded her as if Morric was her storm and Farkas was Mundus, breaking through the clouds, making her world brighter.

Telona fired arrow after arrow as she fretted, wondering how Farkas would react if he was to find out about her relationship with Morric. Would she disgust him? Probably. She hoped the longer she spent with Farkas, the less she sensed that pull towards Morric. She understood deep down it was wrong—he was wrong, but the urges wouldn’t leave her. Telona worried she was using Farkas, but she did honestly like him. It gutted her soul, and Farkas was offering a bit of his to make her whole again. She would take it greedily.

When she focused on her target, she saw how terrible her shots were. Only two arrows landed on the bullseye. Dammit. She was too distracted. Telona needed a distraction. The two men played tug of war with her heart, mind, and soul. She dropped the bow and quiver and pulled out her daggers. Then she began her deadly dance against the straw dummy, back flipping, leaping, stabbing.

The drizzle soon turned into a downpour, but that didn’t stop her. The exercise was enough to keep the chill out despite the rain soaking her. She couldn’t tell where the rain began and her tears ended as she struggled through her pain and Morric’s torments.

“Hey, I’m surprised to find you out here.”

The voice shook her to her core. She turned and lunged at the intruder, stopping herself, seeing Farkas standing there.

He grabbed her wrists despite knowing she wouldn’t hurt him. Her eyes were wild and filled with raging emotions. He couldn’t pinpoint one; there were so many. Her eyes were red showing that she was crying despite the rain on her face. Farkas softened at her pain. He understood the need to train, to force away the mental anguish. It was good for the soul. He let go of her wrists as she dropped her daggers to the ground and pulled her to him.

“It’s okay, Tel. It’s okay. You can let it out,” he said over the downpour. She was stiff, but his words made her soften as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face to his chest. Farkas couldn’t hear her weeping over the storm, but he felt her body shudder and shake with them. It was as if the storm was responding to her pain. “Did something happen?” he asked.

Telona shook her head. “Just… the dreams are too much sometimes.” It was a half-truth. She couldn’t give him more than that.

He nodded his head, though she couldn’t see it. Farkas loosened his hold on her and placed gentle hands on her face, pulling her up to look at him. He wiped away the rain and tears from her face with his thumbs and placed a soft kiss on her full lips. “You’re not alone, Tel.”

She reached up and tangled her fingers around his neck, then in his short hair, pulling him into a kiss. Yes, this was what she needed. She needed her soul grounded. Farkas could take away her pain and confusion as their kiss deepened, tongues exploring their mouths. When they pulled away, she ran her tongue on his bottom lip then gave it a light tug with her teeth. He closed his eyes and groaned. “You keep doing that and I’m going to have to carry you to my room and do something about the ache you’re giving me.”

For the first time, she gave him a soft giggle. “I wouldn’t complain.”

Farkas winged a brow and looked down at her. He wasn’t sure if she was teasing him or not. If she was serious, he wanted to do just as he threatened. Her eyes only showed determination. _Fuck. That’s it._ He bent, lifted her by her legs, and barged through Jorrvaskr as she laughed. Everyone that was in the mead hall looked at them strangely, others knowingly.

When he reached his room, he set her on the floor. Then he dug in a drawer, finding what he was looking for, handing her the towel. “I was teasing… sort of. I uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck as insecurities and doubt consumed him now that he had time to think. “Sorry. I want you, but I don’t want to take advantage of your pain. It’s not right.”

“Only I determine that. If I want this, then you’re not taking advantage,” she said, dropping the towel and resting her hands on his chest.

He looked at her, then closed his eyes, inhaling her scent of her. She smelled like juniper and rain, but it wasn’t as strong now that he was cleansed. After years of looking for a cure, it seemed anti-climatic. As long as he could inhale her, he was happy. Farkas held her close and combed his fingers in her wet hair. “Are you sure?”

When she smiled and nodded, his erection stirred between his legs in anticipation. She did that to him. Few women got him so riled up with ease. Telona had a certain charm and power over her that he thirsted for.

Farkas removed his armor, tossing it unceremoniously in the corner of his room with a loud clang, then removed her leather jacket and began peeling away her clothes, layer after layer. She did nothing to stop him, and her eyes never wavered from his. Once she undressed, he wanted to scan her body, but she was wet and shivering. Then he lifted his towel that she dropped and dried her body and hair, taking his time to make sure she was warm and comfortable. 

“Get in bed under the covers,” he said, as he removed his own wet clothes, and dried himself.

The man standing before her was gorgeous, watching him undress. He was so large and muscular that when he held her; she was enveloped in his protection as if nothing could get past him to harm her. Ever. His touches were gentle and as kind as he was. Such a contrast to Morric. Their lovemaking was hard, sometimes painful, but she secretly liked it. No, it wasn’t lovemaking. She understood that well enough. He fucked her. Telona wasn’t sure if she enjoyed gentleness, but she desired Farkas. 

When his breeches dropped, her eyes instantly gravitated between his legs as her eyes widened. He was… large. She bit her bottom lip then looked up at him, seeing a smirk on his face and his silver eyes dilated, darkening in lust. He had a cockiness she didn’t see before. She liked it.

Shit, that little lip bite and licking her mouth as her eyes focused on his dick had him even harder. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her soft, pale skin. Farkas could scarcely believe he had her in his bed. He thought it would take longer for them, but they had chemistry. It was an instant attraction for him. 

Farkas sat on the edge of the bed, reaching to touch her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. Then those fingers trailed along her jaw and brushed her bottom lip. His hand moved across her throat, trailing along her chest to a breast where he cupped it, then grazed his thumb over her nipple. She closed her eyes as her nipple hardened, unable to contain her moan. When she opened her eyes again, she lunged at him. Telona straddled his lap, grabbed his face, pulling his mouth towards her where she devoured his lips, tongue and consumed his scent of soap and sexual musk. His eyes were wide at first at her reaction, but he melted into her. 

Telona needed to be as near to him as possible as she pressed her body tight against his. Soul for soul. She needed some of his. The want for pain and sex drove her. She cursed in her head. She understood it was because of Morric, teaching her all she knew. He was the only one to touch her sexually until Farkas. Morric was all about pain. Farkas was delicate. She needed him to pull at her, mark her, fuck her hard, make her his. Telona wanted Farkas to possess her. If not, Morric would own her forever. Mentally and Emotionally. “Pull it,” she demanded when he wrapped his hands around her neck and tangled his fingers in her hair. 

Farkas did, but it was a gentle tug. “Harder,” she ordered. He pulled harder to give her what she wanted, but he didn’t want to hurt her either. With her head tilted back, his lips pressed kisses along her jaw, down her throat, and took a breast in his mouth. 

Farkas nibbled and sucked, but she wanted more and for it to be harder. _Bite me. Mark me. Please._

He leaned in and rested her back on the bed as he continued his kisses and licks along her soft flesh, spreading her legs apart as he did so. Then he slipped a finger deep inside that had her moaning. “More,” she said, and he slipped another finger in her wetness. 

“Fuck, Tel. You’re so wet,” he groaned.

“Take me,” she ordered, sitting up and turned so her back was to him. Then she stood on hands and knees. “I need you inside.”

Farkas continued his finger fucking as he licked and kissed the round flesh of her ass. 

“Now!” she yelled.

His brows shot up at her demands. This sexual Telona was different from the Telona he got to know. Then again, he hadn’t known her that long. Perhaps she was always that way. But he wasn’t so prude to not realize that everyone had their sexual preferences. If that's what she wanted, he would give it to her. 

He stroked his cock as he sat upon his knees and lined up with her wet entrance. When he eased in because he didn’t want to hurt her, she demanded he just take the plunge. So he did. He thrust into her in one move as she cried out and he hissed. She was warm and tight. Farkas held still for a moment before he turned into his teenage self. He didn’t want to come instantly.

“Please,” she begged.

“Fuck, Tel. Give me a moment. It’s going to be over before it begins,” he chuckled. “You are so warm and tight.”

After he took a deep breath and calmed his heart rate, he thrust slowly in and out of her. His fingers clung to her hips, fingers digging into her as he pulled her back and forth, but there was no need. She sunk back into him, needing more. A moan escaped him. He ran a hand along the curve of her back, wanting to touch her and explore every inch of her skin. But it wasn’t enough for her. She rocked her body back and forth to speed things. 

“Deeper, more,” she groaned. “Spank me.”

Farkas winged a brow at that. It wasn’t the first time a woman asked to be spanked. He knew a few women who enjoyed it. He was happy to oblige, taking his large hand, smacking her on the ass. 

“Yes. Harder,” she groaned, and he hit her harder. His thrust grew faster, unable to slow down per the demands of Telona. She wanted it faster, harder while he spanked her. His balls tightened, indicating the impending orgasm, but he pushed it back, wanting her to come first. 

“Again, harder this time.” 

He spanked her again, but he refused to do it harder, not wanting to injure her, even when she kept begging. 

He was getting close and before he came, she clung and pulsed around him like a vise as she cried out. Her pulses drove him mad as he could hold back no longer, pulling out and exploded over her back, stroking himself until he was empty. Shit, that was intense and unexpected. Farkas had plans for more lovemaking rather than fucking. He wanted to go down on her. To have her writhing under him. Instead, she wanted fucking and pain—more pain that he was comfortable giving.

Telona fell on the bed, groaned, and her body soon shook with sobs.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.


	13. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telona finally comes clean to Farkas about what exactly happened to her at the hands of Morric. But she makes Farkas promise to keep her secrete. Archer and Vilkas, thanks to Sanguine, finally get past their pining over each other and get that kiss they so desperately wanted.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is going on?_ Farkas crawled into the bed, laid down, and pulled Telona into his chest as she cried, her arm wrapped around his torso. It was a first for him. Never had his partner cry after sex before. Then the guilt grew, questioning himself and filling him with self-doubt. He wondered if he had pressured her when she wasn’t ready. He caught her crying outside in the training yard, but she seemed okay after. 

“Telona? What the fuck is going on? What happened? I… I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he stumbled.

As she continued to cry, he wondered if she was going to say anything at all. “Talk to me. Please.”

Telona wept on Farkas’ chest. His embrace and warmth filled her with guilt while comforting her at the same time. She told him she wanted this. Then she had her damned meltdown. Clearly, she wasn’t ready for intimacy despite how much she liked him. _Godsdamn Morric_. That fucking Breton had her completely confused. She asked Farkas to hurt her because it was all she understood about sex. It must have been wrong because Farkas was resistant. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she kept pushing him. The humiliation was even worse. All she wanted to do was flee and bury herself under a rock. Instead of him pushing her away in disgust, he held her, wanting to talk. The least she could do was provide him some answers, no matter how much her instincts were telling her to run. But he was going to learn she lied about what happened to her. It tore at her. No, she was already under a rock. A rock and a hard place. No matter what she chose, she was going to disgust him.

“Tel. Let me help you. Please talk to me.”

She wiped her face clean with the back of her hand, unable to look at him. She rolled away with her back facing him, but he held onto her tighter. _Why does he have to be so nice?_ “I need you to promise me something,” she finally said, her voice filled with gasps and shudders from her crying.

“I will try.” 

“No, I need you to promise that you will say nothing to anyone if I tell you what is going on.”

“If something is hurting you…”

Telona pulled away as she shook her head. “Forget it.”

Farkas held on and pulled her back to him. “No. I’m sorry, but you just cried your heart out after having sex. You’re suffering and you’re asking me to make a blind promise… fine.” If it was going to take his silence to get her to speak, so be it. “I promise not to say anything to anyone. Tell me what is going on.”

She settled back into him, taking a deep breath. Her stomach fluttered painfully and her heartbeat frantically. She didn’t want to talk about Morric, and then she feared it would disgust Farkas—push her away. “I… I didn’t tell you all everything that happened to me with Morric—”

“We know Telona. We figured you were holding back.”

“You knew?”

“Yes. We just didn’t understand specifically what. Go on.”

“You promised—”

“And I will keep it. Please,” he insisted.

She nodded and turned back into his chest. His gentle fingers trailed against her skin, soothing her. “If Archer finds out... he will go into a rampage and get himself killed. He’s sweet, kind, funny, but he can get too overprotective.”

“I won’t tell him,” he said. Damn, if it was that bad, she needed to tell her brother, eventually.

“Morric didn’t just… torture me. He worshiped me with… pain. With every bit of pain he gave me, he replaced it with love, tenderness, kisses… I told you all he apologized after hurting me, but it was more than that.” Telona paused. Her face flushed in embarrassment, humiliation. She didn’t want to go on, but she owed it to Farkas. “He made me feel…”

“Loved?”

That simple word made the tears spill again, and she nodded. Farkas got it. He understood. “Yes. He made me... want the pain for his attention and love. I was at the point I was willing to do anything for it. He told me to go to the table where he conducted his torture, and I went... willingly because I wanted his love. I wanted him.”

_Fuck me. No wonder she is so confused and upset._ That was why she was so secretive. He clenched his jaw before he asked his next question, already knowing the answer. “Did he rape you, Tel?”

“No. I wanted it.”

_Godsdammit!_ “Did you, though? Sounds like he did a whole lot of manipulation on you. Do you... still want it? From him?” He had to ask. They couldn’t go forward in any relationship if it still confused her, struggling with Morric.

“I... I don’t know. It tears at me, Farkas. I almost didn’t escape, mentally speaking. When I came to my senses and fled, I almost returned to him. It was Talas and my mother keeping me going forward. I needed to get back to them. I figured I worried them. If I didn’t have anyone in my life, who knows what I would have done?”

Farkas didn’t want to ask, but he had to know. He closed his eyes and asked the question. “Do... do you love him?”

“No... I’m not sure,” she admitted.

“Shit, Tel. He’s a piece of fucking shit. I thought it was bad enough that he hurt you, but to manipulate you like that to fuck you is... that was rape. I don’t care what you wanted or thought you wanted. It is wrong on so many fucking levels!” he gritted out. _I’m going to kill that fucker!_

Farkas sat up and crawled out of bed, throwing on his breeches. He began to pace around the room, hands fisted at his sides. If he was that angry, he couldn’t imagine how Archer would react. 

“You’re... disgusted, aren’t you? By me?” she asked, sitting up, wrapping her arms around her legs, face hiding in her knees. She couldn’t bear to look at him. The humiliation grew with his ire. There was no running from it now that she told her story. Telona wished she could take it all back.

“By you? Fuck no!” he spat, looking at her. He softened and rubbed his face. “It’s Morric that disgusts me, not you! What a piece of shit! It wasn’t enough to hurt you, but he had to pull the rape shit on you. By Ysmir!”

She could see his brows furrowed, the ‘v’ in between them, his frown deep. “But, you’re so angry.”

“Of course I’m angry! Who wouldn’t be angry?”

Without looking up at him, Telona crawled out of the bed and rushed to get dressed. She couldn’t bear to see Farkas’ face. The humiliation coursed through her. She had to get out of there. She needed to run somewhere. Anywhere. But Farkas grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I have to go. You hate me and are angry. Oh, gods! I shouldn’t have told you!” she cried, struggling to get out of his grasp, but he was too strong.

“I’m not angry with you, nor do I hate you. Never! You did nothing wrong, sweetheart,” he said with a soothing voice, holding her close and kissed the top of her head when she stopped fighting him. “I can’t imagine what you went through, Tel. It must have been horrible. Believe me when I tell you that I understand your confusion with this asshole. Anyone would. But please realize he manipulated you. He used you for his own personal gain. He doesn’t care about you. You understand that right?”

Did she? Despite questioning it aloud, she just nodded into him.

“We shouldn’t have had sex. Fuck. I feel terrible about that. You’re clearly not ready for it.”

“No, that was my fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

Farkas let go of her and cupped her face up to him. “Look at me.” He wiped her tears with thumbs, and the pain in her eyes nearly killed where he stood. “Hey. None of this is your fault. Do you hear me? Stop blaming yourself. I care about you. How about this? Why don’t we take things slow? I pushed you—rushed you.”

“You... you still want to spend time with me? Even after everything I told you?” Even though he said she didn’t disgust him, she was still disgusted at herself. But Farkas was right. Her feelings with Morric were so messed up. He hurt her on purpose. Manipulated her. What Farkas was offering her with his patience and kindness, which was how things should be. Not what Morric offered. She didn’t deserve this man holding her, but she was greedy. So, she took all he was willing to give.

“I definitely want you after all this. Nothing has changed, Tel. Well, other than I feel more for you now than before. And, a bit more protective over you. Fine, a lot more. But, you trusted me enough with your story and I will do my best to hold on to that trust.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Farkas pressed his lips to hers, tasting her salty tears, then pulled away. “We will take this slow if that is what you want. If you want nothing to do with me, I understand, especially after everything you’ve been through.”

“I want to try. I like you a lot, Farkas. Thank you for not telling the others.”

“I won’t, but Tel... you need to tell Archer, eventually. I’m not saying it to make him furious, but if we have to deal with this Morric, we need all the information we can use against him. If we go after him, he’s going to manipulate you again. You understand this, right? If you don’t want to tell your brother, perhaps you can tell mine. Vilkas is the Harbinger, and if anyone should know, it’s him.”

Telona nodded in agreement. But that was a lie. She would never tell Archer. Ever. Archer was laid back and easygoing, but he was fierce in his protectiveness of her. He would slaughter anyone that hurt her. That would only get him killed. She wouldn’t tell Vilkas either. If she forced Vilkas to keep the secret from her brother, and they were interested in each other, it would all be over between them if Archer ever caught wind of it.

Sanguine popped over to Jorrvaskr, ensuring no one could see him as he kept a watchful eye on the two lovebirds. He sensed Talas was bathing. It was only a matter of getting the two boys together. Nothing like a young and wet strapping male to stir things up. Hircine’s son would probably detect him if the Prince cast one of his spells on him. It had to be the other young man. He just hoped Talas never found out, or else this favor for Hircine would be null and void. Not to mention Talas would hate his father even more.

The Prince didn’t have to wait long. Vilkas was walking down the hall, reading a scroll, not paying attention. Then Talas came out of the washroom, towel wrapped around his waist, dripping wet. Perfect. Really, Sanguine couldn’t have set it up better himself. He giggled with glee in his head as he waved his hand.

The simple spell had Vilkas crashing into Talas. Sanguine stuck around to ensure the spell worked, after, he would leave and let the two men do the rest. They were already interested in each other. It was all about breaking through their barriers. Easiest job ever.

Archer left the washroom with a towel wrapped around his waist as he headed back to his room. He was tired from his job, but he was more hungry than anything else. Good thing it was almost dinnertime. He was looking forward to a good meal from Tilma. When he left the washroom, he crashed right into Vilkas, neither paying attention. Vilkas mumbled his apology, then looked up to see a wet and half-naked Archer. The man’s eyes glazed over and his jaw dropped.

“No one I would rather crash into,” Archer said, smirking at the surprise on Vilkas’ face. Then his smile grew wide as he watched the Nord’s eyes travel up and down his wet body. 

“You’ve returned,” he said, inwardly groaning at stating the obvious. _You’re an idiot._ His eyes traveled across Archer’s chest, water traveling in rivulets down his body with his hair dripping and wavy with moisture. His skin gleamed with wetness, accentuating his muscles. When he looked up at Archer, the elf had licked his bottom lip and bit it. When they met eyes, they were full of mischievous humor and lust. Vilkas sensed the stirring between his legs, looking at him. Archer was so damned beautiful. He tried to shift to make sure the elf didn’t notice.

“Like what you see?” Archer asked. His voice was soft, but deep and filled with humor. Always with humor.

Heat crept up Vilkas’ face. _Damned elf._ “You just love teasing me, don’t you?”

“Definitely. I thought I was pretty obvious.”

The Nord shook his head, irritated and scoffed, then walked away, but not before Archer grabbed his bicep to stop him. Vilkas turned to stare at him, wondering what he wanted now. He wasn’t sure why Archer kept tormenting him. It was getting on his nerves. That and it confused him. Sometimes he thought maybe Archer did it because he was interested in him, but why would he? No, he was just a flirt. He flirted with everyone, especially Ria. Every time he thought about Archer and Ria, his hackles rose.

The two men stood there in silence, and Archer hadn’t let go of Vilkas’ arm yet. The elf was hard to read. His eyes were no longer filled with his usual bout of humor, but something else. When the elf said nothing or let him go, Vilkas tried to shrug him off. Archer’s grip grew tighter and walked closer to him as they stood nearly eye to eye. The elf was so close to him, he could feel his warm breath on his face and smell his clean skin. He liked that they were nearly the same height. So unusual for a Bosmer to be so tall.

Archer inched even closer, forcing Vilkas to take steps back until he hit nothing but wall. Archer placed hands on either side of Vilkas’ head, caging him in. The elf only dared himself to push Vilkas because of the heat in the Nord’s eyes. The man was fighting his desire. He could sense the man practically get hard, eyeing him in his towel, wet. Archer doubted at first about Vilkas’ interest or lack thereof, but now he knew. The man reverberated lust at that moment. If he looked down, he wondered if Vilkas would be as hard as he was.

“What do—”

“I thought it obvious that I’m interested, Vilk. I’m starting to grow impatient,” he interrupted, hovering over Vilkas’ mouth.

“Interested in what?” he asked, but the hoarseness of his voice told Archer Vilkas understood exactly what he meant. It was a reflexive question. His back was pressed to the wall as the elf emitted heat from his half-naked body.

Archer’s smile grew so wide, he thought the elf was about to laugh at him, but he didn’t. “Come on now. You know what I mean,” he said, then leaned in so close, the heat radiated from Archer’s face. Then came the whisper in his ear. “You realize I’m interested in you, and I think you are interested in me too.”

Vilkas tried not to close his eyes and swallowed, daring to look at Archer. His face was so close, any slight movement forward, and they would be kissing. The elf’s wet hair dripped on his tunic and the cold water sent chills through him. Maybe it was Archer who made him shiver. He closed his eyes when his hardness grew, praying the elf didn’t notice, but if he moved his hands to cover it, it would be obvious.

“What… what about Ria?”

Archer’s brow winged up. He wasn’t happy with the direction of their conversation. “What about her?”

“I thought you liked each other.”

The elf laughed. “No, I prefer the masculine type. Types like you. She knows this. I’ve explained this already, Vilk.”

“I know but, she acts like—”

“We are friends. She’s sweet and fun. Nothing more.”

“Fine, but she still wants you. I can see it.”

“Regardless, I don’t date or sleep with women. I can’t change who I am, Vilk.”

Vilkas blew out a sigh, weirdly relieved despite being cornered by this damned Bosmer. He didn’t realize how much it bothered him when he thought of Ria and Archer. He prickled with jealousy when he saw them together. Then his eyes drew back up to Archer’s as the lust grew. 

“Is it possible I like your eyes even more now? The silvery appearance is gone and now that you’re cured, they are… a light, gorgeous type of green, like grass that grows in the spring,” Archer said, his eyes never wavering as he stared at Vilkas.

“That’s… uhm, thanks.”

“Am I making you nervous, Vilk?”

“A little,” the man admitted.

Archer nodded and pushed back away from Vilkas, who understood, but he wouldn’t push him and make him any more uncomfortable. But as he did so, Vilkas’ hands whipped up and grabbed Archer’s face, pulling him close as their lips crashed into each other. His eyes widened but quickly closed to take in the softness of the man’s lips as his hands reached for Vilkas’ waist, pushing his hips forward, rubbing his hardness on Vilkas’ thigh. Touching his lips was like fire or lightning… maybe both. There was instant chemistry there. Archer ran a tongue along Vilkas’ bottom lip, asking for an invitation into his mouth, who accepted. Their tongues tangled and explored, both moaning. 

The elf’s hunger for food turned into something else—hunger for Vilkas. His hand climbed, cupping the back of the Nord’s neck, pulling him closer and tangled fingers in his surprisingly soft hair. And Vilkas’ hands moved to explore Archer’s naked skin. 

Vilkas heart throbbed to painful proportions as he kissed Archer. He was attracted to the elf but didn’t realize how much until he started to pull away. Vilkas had to taste him some more. He couldn’t let him go without doing so. To find that Archer felt the same only made him want the elf even more. He had to have him. There was no turning back now. He had to suck up his insecurities and see where the rushing waters of desire took them.

Archer slowly pulled away and ran gentle kisses along Vilkas’ jawline and down his throat while Vilkas tugged at Archer’s towel to bring their aching cocks together—

“Get a room, assholes,” said a voice, startling the two men, pulling away from each other.

Archer had been so drawn to Vilkas and the kiss, it was like he forgot where he even was or how he was dressed—more like undressed. He looked over at the woman who interrupted them, wanting to curse her. “Njada. It’s always a joy seeing you, being such a pleasant person that you are.”

She stood with folded arms and scoffed, waving her finger at them. “Eat shit, Archer. No one wants to see… that. What you’re doing. So go fuck somewhere else,” she spat and stormed off to the upstairs mead hall for dinner.

“Gods, she’s such a fucking delight,” Archer grumbled, then looked back at Vilkas, whose face was flaming red, and found something very interesting about his feet. “You’re seriously not going to let her bother you, are you?”

Vilkas pushed Archer away from him, needing to get away fast. Talk about going instantly flaccid. _Fuck. This is a mistake._ He shook his head and tried to storm off, but Archer wouldn’t let him.

“I… I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Vilkas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he was prone to do when frustrated.

“Yes, you should have. It’s just a kiss, Vilk. A kiss I quite enjoyed, by the way,” Archer said, taking a step back to give Vilkas some space, folding his arms.

“I liked it too,” he whispered, still too focused on the ground.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m the Harbinger and you’re—”

“You are seriously not going to feed me that line of bullshit, are you?”

Vilkas looked up from his feet into Archer’s irritated eyes. Yes, the elf had every right to feel that way after his reaction. He was embarrassed, especially being caught by Njada, of all people. That woman had a mouth on her and was a gossip. “She will blab to everyone.”

“And? Do you really care? Is it that embarrassing kissing me?”

“No… I,” he sighed. “It’s not. I just… it was unexpected and I’m not sure what to do with this new information,” he admitted.

Archer softened and reached to grasp Vilkas’ shoulders. “It’s new for me too, you know. It’s the first time we shared something like this. But I want more of it. That kiss… Shit, Vilk. It set me on fire. Please tell me it did for you too.”

“Are you always this… forthright?”

“Yes, when I’m not busy teasing and flirting with the Harbinger of the Companions.”

Vilkas breathed out a laugh, then nodded. “I felt it too. But—”

“No. No buts. You liked it. I liked it. I want more. What do you want? Be honest and unafraid.”

He decided to risk it. To remind Vilkas of the kiss they just shared without Njada ruining things. Archer stepped close to Vilkas again and placed a hand on his face. When Vilkas didn’t push him away, he leaned in for another kiss. It was softer and filled with less heat, but it was no less magnetic. Then Archer pulled away. “What do you want?” he asked again.

“I want more too,” Vilkas confessed, meeting Archer’s eyes.

Archer crashed lips into Vilkas again, but it was quick and forced himself off of the man with agonizing pain. It took all his control to not grab him and yank him somewhere private to explore each other some more. He needed to give Vilkas some space and not overwhelm the poor man with his need. “We can take this as fast or slow as you want. I will take whatever you’re willing to give.”

“Aye. Then why don’t we grab some drinks out after dinner and see how much we want then.”

“Now you’re speaking my language!” Archer said.

Vilkas couldn’t help but laugh. Archer was good at that, but he would never admit it to the elf. “Go get some clothes on,” he ordered.

“Are you sure you want me dressed?” Archer quipped, waggling his brows.

Vilkas looked up and down at the elf and smirked. “I’m not sure, but the Bannered Mare won’t allow it.”

Archer barked a laugh and headed back to his room to get dressed.

Farkas came back to his room balancing two plates full of food and two bottles of mead tucked in his arm. He set them on the table and pulled a chair up for Telona. “Dinner is served, milady,” he said.

Telona gave him a little giggle. “Thanks for this. I wasn’t up for a public display of my swollen eyes.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re beautiful. But I understand. It’s been a hard day for you.”

She looked at the big Nord, appreciating him more than ever. Not only did he listen to her sob story, but he also was patient, promising to keep her secret. Best of all, he wasn’t disgusted by her. “Remind me to let Tilma know what a fantastic cook she is.”

“Will do!”

Farkas sat next to her and brushed away some stray hairs that fell in her face, tucking them behind her long ear. “We’ll get through this, okay? Together. But I swear to you, if I come face to face with that bastard, I’m going to gut him... slowly.”

Telona’s stomach fluttered at his confession, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she was pleased Farkas was willing to do that for her, or if she didn’t want Morric... gutted. She wanted to believe it was the former. Farkas was good for her. He was kind, handsome, smart, and a fantastic warrior. She said nothing but gave him her smile as she took a bite of chicken.

“Why don’t you stay the night with me?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t. Talas will wonder where I am. He’s quite protective. Plus... I still get nightmares. He helps me through them and I would hate to keep you up.”

“Let me talk with Archer. I probably should have said something before we did anything, but... we had a moment together. I will explain that to him. But I will do whatever you need to help you get through your nightmares. I get it. Just stay with me. I want you here.”

Telona nodded, giving him a shy smile. Ugh, she hated her shyness and humiliation. She was normally a strong and outgoing woman. Her personality wasn’t up to Archer’s, but it was close. Now she was quiet, aloof, wary, and she hated every bit of it. That’s what fucking Morric did to her. And the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. 

“I see some anger in there,” Farkas said.

“You see a lot, don’t you? More than the others give you credit.”

Farkas gave her a small smile and rubbed her arm. “Eh, who cares? It doesn’t matter. I know how I am. So what’s with the anger? Was it because I asked you to stay?”

“No. I’m angry that I’m not myself anymore thanks to Morric.”

“Good! You should be angry. You have every right. Use that when we face him again. And we will get you back to normal again. I swear to you.”

He reached for her and with little effort lifted her to sit on his lap. She curled up and rested her head on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”

After Farkas cleared away the dishes from dinner, he headed up to look for Archer. He needed to be honest with Telona’s twin. The Bosmer was in the mead hall with Ria on his lap, drinking, and telling stories. When the elf looked over at him, Farkas waved him over and nodded his head to talk outside on the porch in the training yard.

“Hey, Fark,” Archer said, clapping the Nord on the back when they reached outside.

“Hey. Listen, I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, bud. What’s going on?”

“Look, there’s no straightforward way to say this, but—”

“But? Buts aren’t good, Fark,” he said, eyes narrowing and concerned.

“Right. I just want to be honest. I like your sister. A lot. We... shit,” Farkas stalled, rubbing his neck, worried Archer was about to kick his ass. “We... fuck. We had sex. Okay? I really like her. I said I like her a lot, right?”

Archer felt his hackles rise. He wished Farkas told him his intentions before he and his sister had sex. “And just like that? She just gave it up for you? She’s a fucking virgin, you know.” 

_What? Shor’s balls_. Morric must have taken that from her. Farkas’ hands fisted at his sides, getting irate, but he had to rein it in. He promised not to tell Telona’s story. _Fuck._ Now he was in a predicament. Archer thought he took his sister’s virginity. _This is bad_. “She... shit. She didn’t tell me, man. I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m sorry. I should have come to you first. It... it just happened in the heat of a moment.”

Archer mimicked Vilkas as he pinched the bridge of his nose to reel in his anger. His sister was a grown woman and could sleep with who she wanted. He supposed Farkas could have kept silent but chose to do the right thing. Then he thought about Vilkas. It wasn’t as if Archer was going to ask permission to have sex with his brother. He let go of his nose and nodded. “Fine. I can’t say I like it, but she can make her own decisions.”

“Thanks for not breaking my nose.”

“Oh, I wanted to break more than that,” he chuckled, but there was no humor there. “But, I like you and I trust my sister. And since we are all about confessions. I kissed your brother, and he kissed me back. We are going to try... I don’t know what we are trying. I guess testing things out to see if we like each other enough to push things to the next level.”

Farkas cocked a brow. “He kissed you back?”

“Actually, he kissed me first, but... I was kind of cornering him into it. As you like my sister, I like your brother.”

Farkas chuckled. “I was wondering if my brother liked you. I caught him glancing your way more than normal. What about Ria?”

Archer barked a laugh. “Not you too? Vilkas asked the same thing. No, she and I are just friends. She knows where I stand.”

“If you say so. Listen, Tel wants to stay with me tonight. Is that okay with you?”

“That’s up to her, but she gets nightmares.”

“She told me. I will be there for her.”

Archer nodded, watching Farkas walk away. “Hey, Fark?”

“Yeah?” he asked when he turned back.

“Take care of her. She’s... in a rough place right now. I know something more is going on with her and she’s not being very forthcoming about it, but I don’t want to push her either.”

“I will definitely take care of her.”

“And if... if she tells you something that I need to know, will you come to me?”

Farkas shook his head. “No can do. If she tells me something in confidence, it is not my place to tell her secrets. She’s going to have to do that on her own.”

Archer wanted to be pissed at the man, but he nodded instead, respecting him for staying true to his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Next: Morric is watching


	14. It's Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Archer have a 'date' and talk about what they want and expect from each other. Morric has another surprise in store for Telona and the Companions.

Archer and Vilkas walked side by side in the dark on their way to the Bannered Mare, brushing shoulders as if to be as near to each other as possible. It was funny how a little kiss did that. Well, it wasn't so little, but it changed things between the two men. Vilkas had his hands shoved in his pockets, and though they didn't utter a word, Archer had a small smirk on his face, enjoying the little flutters in his stomach. It had been a while since he felt those. All he could think about was that amazing kiss with Vilkas. It wasn't just a hot kiss. It was a _wow_ kiss. The spark between them sent a jolt through this body that he wouldn't likely forget. That Vilkas initiated it made it that much more glorious. He knew Vilkas and he would click together. Archer loved being right.

He side-glanced Vilkas, wondering what his thoughts were, but per usual, his face was a mask of stoicism. The elf wondered if Vilkas was as plagued by the kiss as he was. He hoped there would be another or more by the end of the evening. _Please be more._

The tavern was warm and inviting as soon as they walked in. It was busy with people dancing to the bard's song, eating, and drinking. He and Vilkas found a small table tucked in the corner against the wall. It was perfect so they could talk while watching the crowd. Pulling out their chairs, they sat down as Archer scanned the tavern, seeing some familiar faces and some new ones. He liked the place. 

The silence was still lingering between the two men, and it was getting awkward. Archer shifted in his chair, needing to come up with something to talk about getting them past their thoughts about the kiss, wondering what to say. He didn't want to eat self-doubt for a snack along with his mead. Before he could open his mouth, a lovely Redguard woman with a scar on her face approached their table.

"Hello, Saadia," Vilkas said, giving her a small smile. 

"Vilkas," she greeted. "Who's your friend? I haven't seen him around before."

"This is Archer. He’s the newest member of the Companions. Archer, meet Saadia. She obviously works here."

"Nice to meet you, Archer."

Archer stood, giving her a little bow. "The pleasure is all mine, lovely Saadia."

The woman giggled. She actually giggled. Vilkas had never seen the taciturn woman do that before, let alone smile. Archer just had that way about him.

"Well, aren't you a charmer," she said, hand pressed to her chest, then thrust her thumb in Vilkas' direction. "What are you doing with him?"

Archer barked out a laugh. "Oh, I don't know. There's something to be said for handsome, stoic men who make scowling a national pastime. Don't you think so?"

"Ugh," Vilkas muttered, trying to control the heat creeping up his face.

"If you say so. What'll it be, boys?"

After they gave her their order, she ran off towards the bar to get their drinks, leaving them alone again. "You sure know how to charm people," Vilkas admitted.

"It's a gift. What can I say?" Archer shrugged, but the smirk was teasing.

Vilkas snorted. "Indeed, so is that swelled head of yours. I've never seen Saadia so much as grin before."

"Hmm, I guess she likes me. But enough about her. I am much more interested in you," he said, pleased for the opportunity to talk and end their awkward silence.

Before Vilkas could open his mouth, Saadia was back with their drinks, making Archer groan. Vilkas sighed with relief for the distraction, taking a long pull of his ale. When he left Archer after their kiss, the doubts crept in. He wasn't sure why. The elf was forthright and clear about his interest. But he wondered if he should get involved with someone. He was the Harbinger, but it wasn't unheard of for Harbingers to get involved with someone in the Companions, though it could make things awkward. But Archer didn't want to hear it. It was probably something Vilkas could get past, but it had been a long time since he was involved with someone. This relationship, or whatever it was blooming between them, would be more than a kiss. When he looked over at Archer, the elf was eyeing him over his mug he was drinking from, a twinkle in his eye. 

"Where'd you go?" Archer asked. "I could see the Dwemer gears turning in your mind."

They needed to talk about this. It was the point in dragging the elf out here, away from the others. And it was somewhere comfortable. "I was thinking about earlier tonight."

"Ah. Are doubts running rampant through that lovely head of yours?"

"Something like that."

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ The last thing he wanted was for Vilkas to regret their kiss. He wanted more of that. They were just going to have to talk this out. He could see his lingering hopes for more being squashed by the large Nord in front of him. "Well, I don't have any. In fact, I enjoyed every second of it. If you didn't tell me you were so concerned, I would pull you on my lap right now and kiss you again."

Vilkas couldn't help but smile, shaking his head. "Maybe I would want you on _my_ lap," he quipped.

"Oh, ho! There's a flirt in that gorgeous head after all! Ah, nothing like two alpha's battling it out on who gets to sit on whose lap.” Archer threw his head back and laughed. "Don't worry. I would be more than happy to sit on yours." He winked.

Vilkas chuckled, taking another sip, then grew serious. "You are certainly more at ease with this than I am. It's been a long time since… well since I've been with someone. Not since I became Harbinger."

"Harbingers need love too."

"Is that what this is?"

Archer scoffed, knowing Vilkas was joking. "No, but my attraction for you is off the scales. And it's not easy for me either. I just make it look that way. I haven't had an easy time finding someone," he admitted. "In fact, I can't even remember the last time I had a relationship. It was that fleeting."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"It was."

Archer smiled and took a pull of his ale. At least Vilkas hadn't told him to fuck off yet, so it looked promising. "Regardless, it's the truth. I seem to be able to charm my way through life, but it seems I am not so good at charming myself into the hearts of men."

"But you seem so... confident."

Archer shrugged. "I just know what I want, Vilk, and I'm not afraid to reach for it."

Vilkas nodded, getting used to Archer calling him by his shortened name. He would allow no one else to do that, but the elf was different. "What do you want then?"

"You," the elf shrugged again. "I'm sure I made that clear after that fantastic kiss we shared. The question isn't what I want, but what you want." He was outwardly calm and confident, but inside was a thunderstorm of nerves. His heart was pounding, and he struggled to keep his breathing regulated. Even his hands were clammy, wrapped around his mug. He was afraid Vilkas was going to reject him. He certainly hoped not, because that kiss they shared was fire. Surely Vilkas felt the same way. _Please feel the same way_.

Uncharacteristically Vilkas, the man reached across the table, palm up, looking at Archer. The elf looked at the proffered hand, took a deep breath, and placed his hand in Vilkas'. He hoped the Nord didn't notice his trembling, or worse, the moisture. They tangled fingers and Archer prayed this was Vilkas' way to say he wanted more of this and not a friendly way of saying fuck off.

"I want this too," he said. "You aren't wrong, there's a... spark."

Archer blew out a silent sigh and gave Vilkas his most winning smile. He knew he was nervous, just not how much so. Relief flooded him now that he could openly pursue something deeper with the Nord without all the hints and flirts, though there will still be a lot of flirting because that was the kind of guy he was.

Before Archer could ask how open they could be, Vilkas told him to scoot his chair closer. Archer did and sat next to this hot man of a Nord, brushing their shoulders together. Then Vilkas grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers, and placed them on his lap. _Okay, so Vilkas isn't shy about being intimate in public. Good to know—a relief to know._ That knowledge made his attraction for Vilkas grow tenfold. Once the man got past his doubts, it seemed he went all in.

Saadia kept the drinks coming as Archer and Vilkas loosened up and talked about things from growing up to their rambunctious teen years to the present. 

"I don't know how we get along so well. We are so... different," Vilkas said, wiping away some stray tears from laughing. He couldn't remember laughing that much in a long time. Of course, they both had a lot to drink.

"I grow on people like fungus."

Vilkas smacked Archer's shoulder, chuckling. "Stop. You know damn well you're a charmer and handsome. Shit, you're brilliant with the bow too. I still remain gobsmacked every time I watch you."

"Same goes with watching you with your sword and if you remove your shirt one more time while you do it, I'm going to have to throw down the gauntlet and take you right there."

Vilkas took a quick gulp of his ale to hide his blushing and smile from being flattered. There was just something about the elf. He was so easy to talk to, and it wasn't difficult to be honest with him. His truth just seemed to pour out of him. Again, it could be the alcohol. Tomorrow could be another story. For now, he enjoyed every moment with Archer. "Promises, promises," he managed, making Archer bark out a laugh. 

"You little flirt! I do like this side of you."

They drank from their mugs, holding hands, watching the crowd. The silence was more comfortable this time now that they aired their concerns.

"Your brother is seeing my sister. It seems we both share a thing for twins," Archer chuckled. 

"I was wondering if that was the case. I could tell Farkas was interested, but I didn't know he acted on it. How do you feel about that?"

Archer took a sip of his ale and shrugged. "I like Fark a lot. I'm sure he will be good to Tel. But..."

"But?"

"I'm not sure if she is ready. I'm also not happy that they..." Archer shuddered, not wanting to think about his sister having sex. 

"Did they have sex?"

"Yeah. She is... was a virgin, and I wasn't happy that he took it. It would have been nice if he approached me first, but I get it. Things just happen sometimes. I hold nothing against him for that."

"But you worry about her," Vilkas said. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yeah. After everything she's been through. There's some underlying pain there she's not talking about. She tries to cover it, but she can't fool me. I also can't force it out of her if she doesn't want to talk. It stings, though. We talk about everything."

Vilkas' brushed away some hair in Archer's face, then pulled his chin to look at him, resting his hand on his cheek when he had his attention. It was such a slight yet intimate thing. He never pegged Vilkas as being the intimate type, but he loved being proved wrong. "I am sure my brother keeps secrets from me too. I get that it stings not knowing everything, but she loves you. It's hard not to notice. She will come around."

Archer wanted to lean over and kiss him right then, but he held back, uncertain how Vilkas would react. It was one thing to hold hands, and quite another to kiss so openly. "Speaking of which, when do we plan our attack?" he asked, holding back.

Vilkas noticed the elf's hesitation. He wondered if Archer was about to kiss him, but something held him back. He didn't push and answered the question, "We need a bit more intel. I was thinking maybe you and I can head out there in a couple of weeks and scout the area to see what we're up against. We already know we are dealing with a powerful Breton mage, but what about the rest of them?"

"I think that sounds like a good plan. My sister would be best for the job, but I don't think—"

"She's ready for that," Vilkas finished for him.

"Exactly."

"We should head back," Vilkas said. "It's getting late."

"I suppose," Archer said, sighing dramatically. He really didn't want to go, they were having such a great time. But the evening couldn't last forever. He stood up and reached for Vilkas' hand, who grabbed it. They tangled their fingers together and walked out of the tavern on their way back to Jorrvaskr. 

When they passed a guard with a torch and reached the Gildergreen tree, Archer had to taste Vilkas once more before they headed off to their separate ways. He yanked the Nord's arm and pressed his back against the large tree. 

"What are you—"

Archer pressed a finger to those luscious lips to silence the man. "I am going to kiss you now. I've been wanting this all damn night."

Vilkas nodded as the elf leaned in, pressing their mouths together. Vilkas instantly opened up to him as he swiped his tongue along his lower lip, then entered his mouth. There was a groan, but Archer wasn't sure if it was him or Vilkas—perhaps both. That original spark they shared the first time ignited to something akin to a lightning storm. Their mouths were starved for each other as Archer inhaled Vilkas' juniper and male musk scent. Every time he thought about how Vilkas smelled, it made him hard. One of his hands reached for Vilkas' hip, pulling him close, and the other grasped his thick, dark hair as their kiss deepened.

"Shit," Vilkas moaned when Archer began kissing his throat. His hips punched out towards the elf and slipped a thigh in between his legs, feeling the elf's hardness against him. He let slip another groan, feeling Archer's want. He was sure it mirrored his own. Gods, he could kiss this elf all day.

"Damn, Vilk. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy kissing you?" Archer whispered and before he could answer, their lips locked together once more. Then, Vilkas yanked on the elf's hair, pulling him in as close as possible. 

Before Archer pulled away, he nipped at Vilkas' lower lip. "Okay, we need to stop before I take you right here on the ground, not caring who sees. Being arrested is a bad way to end the date."

Vilkas chuckled, slightly out of breath from the heat of the kiss. "I agree."

Both men righted themselves and straightened out their uncomfortable cocks in their breeches and walked back home, hand in hand.

_A week later_

_His normally handsome face and kind eyes were contorted in rage. She'd never seen this side of him before, and it scared her more than anything he'd done to her thus far. Morric grabbed her wrist, yanking her body close to his. Telona tried not to tremble under his painful touch, but she couldn't help it. It terrified her, yet turned her on. It shamed her._

_"You are not his!" he spat. "You are mine!"_

_"Let me go. You're hurting me," she whimpered._

_"Oh, you're going to hurt a lot more. This is your punishment. Get on the table," he ordered._

_Telona looked around and wondered how she got back to the fortress and Morric's little room of pain. She thought she was in Jorrvaskr, sleeping next to Farkas. Was that a dream? Was this? She shook her head and closed her eyes to clear it, but when she opened her eyes again, Morric was still there and still furious with her._

_"I said, get. On. The. Table."_

_She nodded and did as she was told. "Do I need to bind you?" he asked, and she shook her head no._

_"This is a reminder that you belong to me and no one else. You will take your punishment and do as you're told. You will not disobey me again. Is that understood?"_

_"Yes, master," she said. With Morric's anger, all she could think about was pleasing him. Telona wanted to make him smile and be proud of her. It hurt her that she made him so furious._

_Morric pulled out his switch, swinging it back and forth. The whooshing sound alone made her tremble in fear and eager anticipation. With each hit, he rewarded her with love. The pain on her thigh shot up her body as she screamed, but soon she was filled with warmth as he healed her._

_"Good girl. I knew I could trust you to hold still and take your punishment," he said, pressing his lips to hers. "I only do this because I love you. You know this, right?"_

_"Yes. I love you too."_

_Morric gave her his first smile since his outburst. She felt the warmth in her heart that she pleased him. But her smile turned to a scream again as he hit her. Again, more healing, kisses, and love._

_Telona didn't know how long her punishment and reward went on, but by the time he finished with her, she was exhausted._

_"What a good girl you are, Telona. So obedient. Are you happy?"_

_"Yes, master."_

_"I am pleased. The next time I see you, you will be writhing under me in pleasure."_

_Telona called out to him as he faded from view and darkness consumed her. He was calling to her, but she couldn't see him. "Morric!" she cried out._

_"Telona! Telona!"_

Her eyes popped open and soon her sensitive eyes adjusted to the minimal light of the room. She was confused because it looked nothing like where she was a second ago. Looking to her left, she saw an anxious Farkas holding her face in his hands. 

"Farkas?"

A sigh escaped him and he nodded. "Yes. Fuck! You wouldn't wake up. It scared me."

"I was dreaming?"

"Yes. You kept screaming and calling out to Morric. It was so loud, you woke up several people who came to check on you, including Archer. Shit, Tel. Your nightmares are getting worse. They should be getting better. Are you okay?"

"I think so," she lied. She was far from fine. The dreams were growing so real like Morric was really there. She could feel the switch on her skin and the healing he gave her. Telona pressed her fingers to her lips as if Morric's kiss was still imprinted on them. How was she supposed to move on if he kept intruding into her dreams? 

Farkas bent down and pressed gentle kisses along her face. "I'm sorry, but you don't look fine, Tel. Talk to me. What do you see, sweetheart, when you dream?"

"Him," she admitted.

"Bastard!" he spat. "Is... is he hurting you?"

"He always hurts me, but he always heals me and kisses away my pain."

"Fuck me," he whispered, running a frustrated hand through his cropped hair. "He's really left an impression on you. Come here." Farkas pulled Telona close to him, wrapping his arms around her body as they laid there in his bed. He pressed his lips to hers and pulled away. "This is how you care about someone, Tel. My kisses aren't a reward for pain. I give them freely to you. My arms wrapped around you are my gift for free without expectations. What he did to you was confuse you. He trained you that only love and tenderness are rewards for suffering. That's not how this works. Do you understand that? I would never ever hurt you, Tel—physically or emotionally."

She nodded at him. "I... I know. Deep down I know what he did is wrong, but I'm still confused."

"I know."

Morric watched Telona and that newly cured beast. He didn't care. The Companions needed to die. Especially the one she was in bed with. The man kept pulling her away from Morric and it was pissing him off. All his work was crumbling before his eyes. 

His invisibility spell was powerful enough that no one in Jorrvaskr sensed him. Night after night, he watched Telona sleep next to the Nord. He watched her fuck him, laugh with him, kiss and talk. He fisted his hands at his sides, wanting to kill them both right then, but it would interfere with his plans. 

He knew deep down he wouldn't kill her. Morric wanted her. She was his, and he was hers. Telona belonged to no one else. The only thing that stayed his hand from killing the man was how easy it was to control her in her dreams. He knew he held the power over her still despite their distance from one another. If he revealed himself right then, she would go to him despite how much the other man begged her to stay.

Once he brought Telona back with him, he would castigate her for this. Yes, he would heal her, love her, but he planned to inflict maximum pain so she would never stray into another man's arms again. It would be so much, Telona would never, ever leave him. She would be desperate for his love and know nothing else.

Two weeks passed since that nightmare and Telona hadn't had one since. She was finally waking up refreshed. After stretching in bed, she rolled over and pecked a kiss on Farkas' cheek. "Morning," she whispered.

Farkas reached for her and pulled her on top of him. "Morning," he said back, kissing her. "You're looking bright this morning."

"I feel good."

"Yeah? Still no more bad dreams?"

"Nope," she said, kissing him again.

"Good. So you're ready for some whoop-ass this morning in the training yard, right?"

"Ha! As if you can catch me."

"I don't know. I think I've caught you already since you're in my bed and all."

Telona giggled. "That's only because I let you catch me."

"Ah, I see how it is. You're definitely going to get your ass handed to you today," Farkas laughed and kissed her again.

Farkas and Telona headed to the training yard after breakfast. Everyone but Archer and Vilkas was already training. The two men were packing and getting ready to scout the area where they found Telona. They hoped to get more information on their enemy.

"Grab your sword, Tel. Let's see how good you really are," he teased. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and winked, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Yes, let's," she said, grabbing her sword and giving it a few swings and thrusts. Then she sauntered over to Farkas, who was waiting for her with a smirk. 

"Ready?" he asked.

When she nodded, he came right at her as they clashed metal. Telona had learned a great deal about swordplay, and she was fast combining her dagger techniques to make her style unique. She flipped, rolled, dodged. While Farkas was slower because of his build, he was stronger.

" **Moraga,** " she heard. 

Their swords clashed again as they braced against each other. But when Farkas looked at Telona, her eyes were no longer full of mischievousness. They glazed over as if she was lost in thought, not focused on him. Her smirk dropped into a frown.

"Tel?"

She shoved off of him, dropped her sword and pulled out her two daggers strapped to her belt, and ran at him, swiping his abdomen. He jumped out of the way just in time. Something was wrong, and red flags were waving in the back of his mind that she wasn't right. Telona was out to kill. "Telona! Stop!" he cried out.

But the elf kept coming at him. She wasn't focused on anyone but him. He didn't know what to do. Before he could call out to anyone to stop her, she came at him again. She spun and kicked his head, stunning him before he could block it. While he was seeing stars, he fell to his knees because the move was so unexpected, then felt the sharp pain in his back. His arm reached out, and he grabbed her wrist like a vise, and when her other hand came around with the other knife, he grabbed that too. 

"Telona! What's wrong with you? Stop!" he yelled, ignoring the dagger protruding from his back. "Please."

She stared at him, seeing recognition hit those silver eyes of hers. "Yes, Tel. Come back to me, sweetheart. Come back."

But her eyes glazed over once more. She jumped, shoving her feet against his chest and pushed off, backflipping out of his grip and swung the knife along his throat. The blood came spilling out, and he fell to the ground, trying to stop the bleeding. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Archer yelled, running to his sister, seeing her fight with Farkas. She was out for blood. Before he could reach her, she had broken loose from Farkas' grip and sliced his throat. _Fuck me!_ He grabbed her from behind before she could do any more damage. By this time, everyone was aware of what was going on. "Get Farkas out of here! Get him healed. Now!"

"What the fuck?! I'm going to kill your bitch of a sister!" Njada said, coming at them with her sword.

"Wait," Farkas gasped. "Leave her. It's... not her... fault." 

"What do you mean it's not her fault?" Ria asked, her own sword ready for anything. 

By this time, Vilkas had run towards his brother. After seeing all the blood, the look he gave Telona was pure hatred. "I'm going to... be... fine, brother. It's... not her fault," Farkas repeated. "Please."

Athis ran off to the Temple of Kynareth to grab a healer.

Vilkas nodded at his brother, trusting his judgment, and looked back at the struggling woman. She snarled and screamed to be let go from Archer's grip. _Farkas is right. She's not right in her head._ Her eyes were completely glazed over, unfocused. 

Telona was stronger than he ever felt, and Archer struggled to hold on. He could feel the tears well in his eyes, feeling desperate, not knowing what was going on. It also killed him to see Farkas so injured. Another inch and she would have severed an artery. Then he saw stars in his eyes before he felt the pain rush to his head. She slammed him with her head right on his nose, then shook herself loose and ran. Blood streamed down his face as he chased after her. "Telona!"

She climbed the wall, hovered on top, and without looking back, dropped straight down. When he looked over the edge, she rolled on the ground and ran. By that point, he knew there was no catching up to her. She would lose herself in the woods not far in the distance. Then he would never find her if she didn't want to be found.

Archer shoved his back to the wall and slid to the ground, bleeding. With hands over his face, he wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.


End file.
